#and we want to put him in a dog hotel that has trainers for a bit to see if we can at least find a management plan for this issue

[iguinn]

honestly this is going to be controversial but after our dad told us quite a few stories about smaller dog actively trying to provoke and bite his lab mix (uve heard of him) to the point an incident happened that made him way more on edge around other dogs since... we think that we need to start to be more critical of small dog owners who dont train them because if a big lab mix like our sweet big boy meant to actually hurt their dog for growling and trying to attack him trust us we would not let our sweet boy be put down because some idiot did not train their dog to not actively attack other dogs because they think its ok cause their dog is small. train ur small dog cause even a generally gentle and well trained bigger dog (like our dad's lab mix) can snap if provoked enough.

[champion-leon-imagines]

Chronicles of Galar - Chapter 3: A loss & Gain of trust

This chapter is kinda sad at first. As a warning, a minor (and non-canon) character death that hit you hard and you don’t know what to do.. then you meet Leon and everything changes. Your level of friendship increases and he gives you comfort in a way, no other person would ever be able to give you. Comfort!Fluff.

"[Y/n]..", Cynthia's voice was sad and battered and that alerted you directly. Cynthia rarely called, and only when it was important or bad news. Her pitched voice suggested the worst. "I hate to have to say something like that over the phone .. ... Grandmother died .."

Your eyes widened and tears began to run down your cheeks. You had expected all sorts of things, but this news threw you completely off the mark.

"W-what ..? W-How ..? She was very healthy and not yet that old .. ", you mumbled sadly and clutched your smartphone tightly while more tears ran down your face. Professor Carolina, the village elder of Celestic Town and grandmother of Cynthia, was like a mother to you. Carolina had cared for you since the beginning of your trainer career. Since you lived in Sinnoh for several years and lived with her, the two of you cultivated such an intimate and harmonious relationship. Her death news had torn the ground from under your feet.

"She had a heart attack .. Caused by an allergic reaction after she had been exposed to the poison of an aggressive Roserade .. Roserades release a special toxin that has so far remained undiscovered by researchers, as they only eliminate it when they are really feel cornered and have to protect their offspring .. Grandmother had found a nest and wanted to study it from a safe distance, but one of the Roserades has lost its nerve. She fought for survival in the hospital for days, but .. ", Cynthia said and could no longer speak through her own tears .

"For days ...? And you call me NOW ..? Cynthia, I would have left everything and gone to Sinnoh .. "

"I didn't wanted to ruin your adventure in Galar. None of us expected that Grandmother ... would not survive .. The doctors also said at first that she was recovering nicely, but then her condition deteriorated so rapidly .... And then I was just too occupied and sad that I forgot to call you earlier. I am so sorry.."

You felt terrible. Not only because of the loss, but also because you screamed at Cynthia like this for not letting you know sooner. "Don't apologize .. I'm sorry if I sounded harsh .. I .. can't believe it .." you mumbled sadly and wiped your face.

"We all feel that way in Celestia Town.. Believe me .. The .. funeral is next week .. on Wednesday ... Are .. are you coming ..? "

"Of course I'll come .. Cynthia, thanks for everything you've done for me. I'll never forget Carolina .. I'll see you on Wednesday .. I love you, big sister, okay ..? "

"I love you too, little sister .. take good care of yourself."

With these words, Cynthia hung up and you dropped to your knees to completely give in to your emotions. You were crying so loud that your brother and his fiancée ran from the study straight to your room and wanted to know what was going on.

It wasn't long before you felt overwhelmed by the comforting hugs and words of your real family. You gently pushed the two of them away and stood up. "Sorry .. But I would like to be alone for a moment .. I'll go for a walk ..", you said and walked to the door.

"Now..? Do you took a look outside? It's raining cats and dogs. Take an umbrella with you at least. ", Aki said , worried and crossed her arms.

"I don't mind .. It's just water .. I'll .. I'll come back later, okay ..?", You smiled sadly and raised your hand to say goodbye before you just stormed out into the rain. Aki shook her head and collapsed onto the hotel couch. You and them currently stayed in Motostoke.

“I never realized how close the relationship was between her and Professor Carolina. Her death hits her as hard as if a family member had died. ", Aki said quietly.

"She was a family member for her." Mamoru began sadly. “When [Y/n] lived in Sinnoh after our parents started to argue daily, the professor behaved like a mother to her. She raised [Y/n] without hesitation, and became more or less like a little sister to Cynthia. Professor Carolina was the caring mother, our mother couldn't be at that time. So I understand that her death takes [Y/n] with it ... ", he explained.

"Shouldn't we then follow her and be there for her?", Aki insisted. Mamoru shook his head slightly.

"No. She said she wants to be alone. My sister is strong. She won't do anything stupid. Let's give her some time. And when she has recovered, she will come back and then we can still be there for her. ", he smiled confidently.

"If she hasn't caught pneumonia by then.", Aki sighed slightly. Mamoru smiled sadly.

“Then we mustn't blame her. This is what she needs least of all at the moment. "

You ran around aimlessly in the rain for a few minutes until you lost your strength and sat down on a wet bench. Your clothes were soaked and your hair was stuck to your face so that you could barely see anything. But you didn't really care about that at the moment. You pulled back your knees and put your arms around them as you leaned your head on your drawn knees and sobbed softly into them. You couldn't even say goodbye to Carolina .. You wanted to tell her so much, show her so much .. So many things were unsaid .. For example, how grateful you were that she welcomed you so warmly .. How much you appreciated you had learned and how much you  loved to bake Christmas cookies with her one last time .. that was all over now. That thought just didn't go into your head.

Minutes passed. The minutes turned into hours and the rain just wouldn't stop. It was like the heaven cried for her too. Not that it helped in any way, because your own tears just wouldn't stop. At some point you could only hear the rain, but the droplets didn't seem to hit you anymore.

'Have my senses become so numb that I can no longer feel the rain on me ..?' You thought bitterly and then looked up. You blinked perplexed when a red cape was stretched over you. You saw Leon, who was holding his big cape over him and you and protecting both of you from the rain.

"You didn't choose a good day to sit out here." Leon laughed slightly until he saw that it wasn't just rainwater that had moistened your face. Your gloomy eyes made his smile fade and he held the cape over you more generously. "Did you .. cry ..?" He asked quietly. Normally you would have been happy to meet him here, but under the current circumstances, you couldn't utter a single word. Instead, you bit your lip to hold back more tears. Unsuccessful as it seemed, because more tears ran down your cheeks again and made you sob softly in response.

Leon seemed a little overwhelmed. How should he behave now? Nobody has ever cried in front of them, especially not a woman. The purple-haired man looked around for help until he noticed that his hotel was not far from here. "You don't have to speak right now, but we should get dry first, don't you think so?" He smiled and you nodded slightly when you got up. Then, under the protection of his cape, you ran to the hotel. As he entered, Leon called the receptionist to bring fresh clothes and a towel to his room. And a hot tea. You two went to an elevator and drove to the floor where his room was.

Once there, Leon took the towel and rubbed your hair dry. Then there was a knock on the door and the room service had brought a sleeping gown that you could slip into for the time being. Leon gratefully accepted the  gown and handed it to you.

“I'm going to have a look after the tea. So you can change in peace. ", He smiled and patted your head lightly before he got up and left the room. You looked after him slightly. The tears finally stopped, but you still felt miserable. Although another emotion was budded in your heart. A warm, pleasant feeling.. You were glad that someone was looking after you at the moment .. and he was so thoughtful.

A few minutes passed before there was a knock on the door. "It's me," Leon called. "Can I come in?" He asked, not wanting to burst in while you were changing. You thanked him very much for his courteous manner.

"Y-yes. I've already finished dressing. ", You said a little broken. The door opened and Leon held a small tray with the tea on it. He saw you on the hotel bed. The towel around your shoulders and in the hotel's white night gown. He smiled a little, because you didn't seem so exhausted anymore. After placing the tray on the bedside table, he sat down next to you.

"How are you?" He asked.

"Terrible .." you replied quietly. "But better than before," you added after seeing Leon a little worried.

"Would you like to talk now about what happened?" He asked further, looking at you.

"... The woman who practically raised me ... and was like a mother to me ... died." You wiped away the new tears and sobbed softly. "She was such a wonderful person .. Why did she have to die so early .."

Leon was silent for a moment and then looked sadly at the floor. His hands clenched into a fist and he didn't even know how to react.

"Professor Carolina ..?" Leon didn't even had to guess, since he already knew a lot about your past. You nodded sadly and Leon's face grew sadder. "I'm really sorry about that .. My deepest condolences .." he said sadly.

"Thanks ..", you mumbled and hugged yourself, trying to find some warmth.

"If I can do anything for you .. Tell me.", He offered you and you looked next to you. You swallowed lightly and sighed.

"Can you .. just hug me ..?" You asked softly. Leon blinked slightly. Although you had met a few times, both of you hardly had any physical contact so far. Except for a short, half-hearted hug as a greeting. This time it was different.

"Of course," he replied immediately and put his arms around your trembling body to pull you close. You buried your face right in his jersey and wrapped your arms around his stomach.

"Thank you ..", you whispered softly and muffled when you felt how he caressed your back soothingly.

"Don't mention it." he said and hugged you to give you the greatest possible comfort. You and Leon lingered in that embrace in silence. Your sobs grew quieter and your breathing became calmer. At some point the purple-haired man noticed that your eyes were closed. You must have fallen asleep. Leon smiled a little and laid you on the bed properly before covering you and caressing your cheek. Then he looked at his smartphone, which was about to remind him of an appointment. He got up and wanted to go when he noticed how you grabbed his hand and prevented him from going. "[Y/n] ..?"

"Please don't go now .. I .. don't want to .. be .. alone ..", you stuttered with half-open eyes. Your [e/c] irises shone from all the weeping and Leon looked at you desperately. He thought about his appointment and sighed. Then he put his other hand on top of yours and smiled.

"Alright. I'll stay with you. ", He said and sat down on the bed again. You smiled gratefully and pressed his hand to your cheek.

"Thank you ...", you mumbled softly and then held up your other hand, asking that he lay down next to you. Leon smiled and lay down next to you to pull you into his arms and hug you. You both looked at each other for a while before closing your eyes and falling asleep.

On the next morning, Leon's voice woke you up. He didn't sounded angry, but a little louder than usual. And he seemed to be talking to someone. You opened your eyes and blinked when you saw Leon pacing up and down the room.

“I told you Oleana. I couldn't meet with President Rose on this appointment because there was an emergency. ... a private emergency. No, it didn't concern me personally, but ... ... Now please listen to me. ", Leon sighed and rubbed his face in annoyance. You just couldn't talk sensibly to this woman. “Of course, I am aware of the consequences if I fail to keep important appointments for no good reason. But the reason was important to me. And I don't care if you see it any other way. … Yes, then tell President Rose that we will postpone the appointment until next week. ”He hung up and sighed deeply again. "I wouldn't want to work with this woman .." he mumbled quietly and turned around. He saw that you were awake and looked at him in shock. "Oh..“

"You had an appointment with President Rose yesterday ...?" You asked and Leon averted his gaze guiltily. "Why did not you say anything..? I wouldn't have held you here if I had known that you had an important appointment .. ", You said ashamed and straightened up.

"You needed someone.", Was his only answer when he looked at you again. His words only made you more shocked.

"You had put my well-being over your appointments ..?", You asked incredulously and put your hand over your mouth. Leon smiled and walked towards you when he put his big hand over your head.

"Of course. I can always make up or postpone appointments. But you cannot control your feelings. That's why .. it was more important to me to be there for you than to give Rose another stupid interview about why I'm the unbeatable champion. ", He said with a charming smile.

You felt like you were about to start crying again. This time, however, not from grief. The warmth of this man simply took in every fiber of your body and you literally threw yourself into his arms after these words. Leon blinked in astonishment before putting his arms around you and hugging you again as you buried your nose in his neck.

"I-I'm sorry, only because of me...Because of me your schedule got messed up .. I'll make it up to you, I promise," You said quietly. Leon laughed softly before pulling away a little and caressing your cheek.

“If you want to make it up, then .. I know of a small, cozy ice cream parlor. That serves the BEST Alcremie sundae in Galar. How does that sound? ”He asked and winked. You smiled and your grief was almost forgotten for that moment.

"Sounds good."

Since that day the friendship of you had reached a new, more intimate level.

[tripleaxeldiaz]

like it’s a little secret, like it’s all he has to give

for @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels <3

read on ao3

He didn’t mean for this to happen.

Well, no. He wanted it to happen, had been planning to make it happen with a lot more wooing and sweeping off of feet to get them to a perfect moment where he could tell Buck exactly how much he loves him and needs him in his life.

So he did want it to happen, of course. He just didn’t expect it to happen like it did — after a night out with the team, in the dim light of his living room, during a tipsy game of Truth or Dare like they were in high school again. Buck had said, “Dare”, and the three beers and two shots swimming in Eddie’s brain said, “I dare you to kiss me.”

And he did.

And one kiss turned into two, turned into making out on Eddie’s couch, turned into stumbling blindly toward the bedroom, turned into fingertips burning trails up backs, whispered confessions into necks, and muffled moans of yes and more and please and Eddie.

So it happened. It’s still happening.

That isn’t the problem. 

The problem is that it happened six months ago and they still haven’t told anyone.

It’s not that they don’t trust their friends or that they aren’t serious about each other. In fact, they’re probably too serious about each other, about making this the thing that sticks. The morning after their first night together, they talked for hours about their past failed relationships and insecurities, laying every, ugly part out for each other to see.

“I just want to be enough,” Eddie said, throat as raw as his insides felt. 

Buck’s hand slid up his back to scratch through his hair. “You’re more than enough for me. And I’d like to stick around and prove that to you, as long as you’ll let me.”

“Forever, ideally.”

“Forever it is.”

“I’m gonna fuck this up.”

Buck shrugged. “So will I. Maybe we give ourselves some time — fuck things up quietly before we let other people know?”

Eddie kissed Buck again, softly, soundly, relief surging through him because Buck gets it and wants to make this work and, this way, he feels like they may actually have a chance.

So that was that. Nothing really changed — Buck was still at the Diaz house more often than not, but now sleepovers meant Buck was in bed with Eddie instead of on the couch (except for the half hour before Chris woke up when Buck snuck out to the living room). They were still a dynamic duo on calls, they just also had each other after calls now too, especially bad ones. They were able to get to know each other as boyfriends instead of just best friends, figure out what they wanted and needed from a relationship, and smooth out the bumps they hit on their own, without any outside influence.

Now, they’re in a good spot. The best spot. And six months is a long time to keep quiet about something that makes Eddie so happy he could explode. But—

“They’re gonna be mad,” he says, head pillowed in Buck’s lap, absently picking at the label of his empty beer bottle. Buck hums, fingers combing through Eddie’s hair, the TV softly playing some reality show about a yacht crew.

“You don’t think they’ll be happy for us too?”

“They probably have a betting pool going on us. Then they’ll be mad and gloating.”

Buck’s hand stills on his head. “Eddie, if you don’t want to—”

Eddie scrambles up to sitting, taking both of Buck’s hands in his because he’s stopping that train of thought right now. “I do want to. I really do. I’m just—”

“Nervous?”

Eddie nods, absently placing a kiss inside Buck’s wrist as he gathers his thoughts. “I trust you. More than anything. And I trust us. I just don’t trust anything else, not yet. We’ve been in our own little world for a while, I just need to get used to that not being the case anymore.” 

Buck’s quiet for a minute before he leans forward, kissing Eddie’s forehead. “I don’t really trust anything else either. I’m happy to wait and follow your lead. As long as you know you’re stuck with me.”

Eddie kisses him quickly before laying back down, Buck’s hand automatically threading into his hair again. “You’re stuck with me, too. Even when cute, injured bikers try to steal me away—”

He feels a sharp tug on his hair. “I knew you did that on purpose!”

Buck’s jealous streak is a mile wide, Eddie’s known that since the day they met. So what if he’s exploited it a little while they’ve been sneaking around? How could he have known for sure that a little extra flirting on a call would get him blown within an inch of his life in a storage closet as soon as they got back to the station? He’d surely expected it, but…

Whatever. Sue him. His boyfriend’s hot when he’s territorial, and he’s only a man.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie should have known the universe would start fucking with them almost immediately.

The team has never been shy about trying to set both of them up — there’s always a friend of a friend or a second cousin or a neighbor that would be perfect for, as Hen so lovingly puts it, “our hot and lonely coworkers”. It’s only gotten worse in the past month or so, when a team trivia night turned into a team-and-significant-others trivia night, “forcing” Buck and Eddie to pair up to even things out. Ever since, he’s been cornered almost every day by Hen and/or Chim, each with a handful of people that would love to take Eddie out to dinner, and he knows they do the same to Buck. He’s pretty sure they have a shared spreadsheet about it.

“Come on Eddie, Nick is great! He’s tall, he owns a gym, his dog is cute—”

“Chim,” Eddie cuts him off, pulling his head out of the fridge to face Chimney and Hen seated at the island. He could end it now, just tell them I don’t want to go out with your new personal trainer because I already have a boyfriend, but it’s the middle of shift and everyone is still lingering from lunch and...it’s too much right now. Over Chim’s shoulder, he can see Buck looking at him from the couch, probably thinking the same thing (because they do that a little too often). Buck just raises his eyebrows and shrugs, saying I’m following your lead. Eddie falls a little bit more in love with him.

He focuses back on Hen and Chim. “I appreciate you guys worrying about me in your own weird way, but I’m fine. Plus, I have a thing and Chris’ school Thursday night anyway.” 

He does not have a thing at Chris’ school, and he feels bad using his kid like this, but drastic times call for drastic measures.

Hen holds up her hands as Chim deflates just a little. “Fine fine,” she says. “We know you’re busy.” She looks at Chim, and they have a quick conversation with their eyebrows before he gets up and slowly walks toward Buck.

“So, Buck, my dear pseudo brother-in-law. How’s your Thursday—”

Buck doesn’t even look up from his book. “No. Maddie and I are having a wine night, and we’re gonna talk shit about you the entire time.”

Chim squawks at that, and Eddie does a bad job of turning his laugh into a cough. It does get them to back off for the rest of the week, though Eddie resigns himself to this vicious cycle of theirs until he can finally shake the feeling that everything he and Buck have been building will dissolve through his fingertips as soon as they let anyone else in. 

It’s vicious but predictable. Easy to follow, easy to get ahead of. It gives Eddie a little room to breathe while he sorts his head out.

Naturally, that’s when Abuela decides to get involved.

Eddie’s never been able to refuse her anything — that’s how he ended up at her house on his day off in the first place, fixing a broken dryer and tightening cabinets and anything else she happens to remember she needs while he’s here. He really doesn’t mind, and he’s happy to spend any time with her that he can, but she’s been...prying. All day. As casually as she can, but he can tell she’s fishing for something. 

“Edmundo,” she says as they sit down for lunch. “You’re telling me you can’t even remember the last time you went on a date?”

Of course he can — he and Buck haven’t been able to go on many “normal” dates since they got together, but they did manage to coordinate a weekend in Ojai a few weeks back where all they did was eat, lounge by the pool, and have sex in their much-too-fancy-for-them hotel room. 

That counts as a couple of dates, right?

He shrugs instead. “I’ve been busy. Between work and Chris, I’ve just got a lot on my plate. I don’t really have time for dating.” And I don’t think my boyfriend would be too happy about it, he thinks.

“Of course,” she says. She keeps eating like that’s the end of that, but he knows there’s something else. When she finishes, she pushes her plate aside and looks at him dead on, with that There’s no way you’re getting out of this look in her eyes. “You know, if you did want to get out there again, my friend Diana has a granddaughter around your age that just moved to LA and wants to meet some people.”

There it is.

“Abuela, I really don’t think—” 

“It doesn’t have to be a date, it can just be dinner! The two of you getting to know each other. She’s sweet, she’s beautiful, and she’s a teacher, so she’s great with kids. At the very least, she could be a good friend.” She reaches across the table and grabs his hand in both of hers. “You work too hard, Edmundo. You deserve to do something nice for yourself, and that can be as easy as going out to a nice restaurant with a pretty girl for one night.”

He should tell her. He should tell her everything, even though Buck’s not here, even though he still has a stupid voice in his head telling him that as soon as their bubble pops, the likelihood of everything going belly up will skyrocket. He doesn’t want to lead this poor girl on, but Abuela is also looking at him all sad and hopeful, because she does want him to be happy, and—

“Fine. One dinner.”

Abuela cheers, actually cheers, and hugs him tightly before getting her phone. She calls Diana to set everything up themselves, rather than giving Eddie the girl’s — Chelsea’s — number. By the time he leaves, they’re set for 8pm next Friday at an Italian place downtown, and they each have a description of what the other will be wearing. “Like a real blind date,” Abuela says, and Eddie tries not to actually kick himself for falling into this trap.

He needs to get out of this. Abuela wouldn’t give him her number (“so your first meeting will be as magical as possible”), so he’ll just have to tell her right from the start on Friday. He feels bad, but hopefully she’s as nice as he’s been told and she takes it okay. And should he tell Buck? Probably, but is it even an issue if he’s not actually going through with the date? Buck’s working an overnight on Friday, so he won’t even be around when he’s supposed to be out. He could smooth it all over himself and then really sit down and get his shit together to figure out how they’re going to tell everyone, so no more fake dates happen ever again. 

He’s got this. It’s not his best idea ever, but it’ll have to do. Everything will be totally fine.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Eds? You home?”

Shit.

Eddie scrambles to shut his bedroom door, tripping over himself in the process and landing flat on his back. That’s how Buck finds him, and his stomach drops as he watches Buck’s face switch between worry and confusion as he takes in Eddie’s button down and slacks.

“Uh, hey,” he says. Buck offers a hand to help him up. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“I’m on my way, just needed to grab my phone charger,” Buck says as he pulls Eddie up, checking him out again like he’s confirming that his brain isn’t playing tricks on him. “You’re awfully dressed up for your night off.”

Eddie sighs heavily through his nose. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid, and if he had left 10 minutes earlier like he meant to it would have been fine. But now Buck’s here, and he refuses to lie to him. He’s already been lying by omission enough this week.

“Abuela kinda set me up for dinner with her friend’s granddaughter,” he says quickly, panicking when Buck’s eyes go wide and his cheeks go pale. “But,” he moves closer, placing both hands firmly on Buck’s shoulders, taking it as a good sign that he doesn’t pull away, “I’m just going long enough to tell her that I’m very taken and this whole thing was a mistake. I promise, nothing was ever going to happen.” Buck does pull away then, and Eddie’s hands fall heavily back to his sides. “Buck, please—”

“I know,” he says quietly. “I know you wouldn’t do that to me. But Eds, I told you I’d follow your lead when it came to telling people about us, and if that meant fake dating other people that’s cool, I just wish you talked to me about it first. We’ve got to communicate and stuff, we’re on the same team here.”

“You’re right,” Eddie says. He slowly reaches for Buck’s hands, relieved again when he lets him. “I should have told you. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, and I didn’t want you to worry or think things were bad with us, because they’re not. But still. I’m sorry.” Buck doesn’t move, just stares at the floor. Eddie squeezes his hands. “Are we good?”

Buck finally looks up, and Eddie can’t get a read on his emotions like he usually can. But he squeezes his hands back and gives him a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’re good. But I should get going.” He slips out of Eddie’s hands and out the front door without another word. 

There was no yelling or accusations or anything bad, really, but Eddie still feels gutted, like every fear he had about messing up is starting to manifest like he knew they would. He should go after Buck, tell him how much he loves him, how much he trusts him, but he’s 20 minutes late now, and when he pictures Chelsea standing all by herself in a crowded restaurant looking for him, he feels a whole different wave of guilt crash inside him.

He’s going to fix this, all of this. He has to. And he’s got a 30 minute drive to think of a new plan.

~~~~~~~~~~

The drive ends up being closer to an hour, and all Eddie does is convince himself that the next time Buck sees him, he’s going to realize that Eddie’s not good enough for him and break up with him on the spot.

The restaurant is loud and crowded, lit mainly by the low candles placed on each table. Eddie’s eyes scan the room until he spots her at the bar — emerald dress and gold heels, just like Diana had told him. He slides into the empty seat next to her, awkwardly waving to get her attention. “Chelsea?”

She looks at him with a warm smile. “Edmundo, right?”

“Eddie’s fine.” He steals himself, figures ripping the band-aid right off is probably the best thing to do. “Look, I’m really sorry—”

“That’s not a great way to start a date.”

Guilt curls tighter in his stomach and up his arms. “This has been a huge misunderstanding. I’m kind of— I’m already in a relationship, and we haven’t told anyone, and my abuela was just trying to help, and she knows I can’t say no to her, and now everything is falling apart.” He feels even worse dumping all this on a woman he’s known for three minutes, but his brain seems to be doing its own thing at the moment, he’s just along for the ride.

She looks at him for a minute, before waving the bartender over. “Well, you’re here, and you sound like you’re about to lose your mind. Have one drink with me, and tell me everything.”

So he orders a Jack on the rocks and spills his guts — tells her about Buck, about why they kept everything under wraps, his plans to fix everything, how he’s so fucking scared that once everyone knows and their little fantasy world is gone, Buck will realize that he can do better, that he deserves better, and Eddie will have to put himself back together somehow. He’s not sure exactly how long he talks, but Chelsea listens intently to every word, and Eddie actually feels better when he’s done.

She finishes the last of her gin and tonic and looks him right in the eye. “I know we just met, but can I be real with you?”

Eddie nods as he knocks back his own drink.

“Your plans suck.”

He laughs and almost shoots whiskey out of his nose. “Yeah, I think I’m starting to figure that out too.”

“Look — you love your boyfriend, right?” she asks as she hands him a napkin.

“Of course. More than anything.”

“And he loves you.”

He thinks about the way Buck looks at him, no matter where they are, like he's the only person worth looking at. How it took a little while, but now he actually feels worthy of a gaze like that. “Yeah, he does.”

She shrugs. “Then it sounds like you have nothing to worry about. You have each other — everything and everyone else is just background noise.”

It’s such a simple thing, something Eddie’s known for months now, but hearing it come from someone else gives his mind that final shove that makes everything click into place and finally stick. They do have each other, he and Buck are a team, on and off the clock. That’s not going to change, if anything because they’re both too stubborn and in too deep to let it change.

“I know you’re already a teacher, but you should seriously consider becoming a therapist if you ever switch careers.”

“Believe me, this is nothing compared to the middle school problems I deal with on a daily basis.”

He shudders at the very idea of dealing with that many 13 year olds. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, but thanks.” Slumping back in his chair, he scrubs a hand over his face. “I don’t even know how to start fixing this.”

Chelsea hums, face scrunched as she thinks. “You said he’s at work right? With all your friends too?” Eddie nods. “Sounds like as good a time as any to tell them. And remind Buck that you're with him one hundred percent.”

Eddie’s never been one for big, romantic gestures, but she’s right, and this is for Buck. He’ll do pretty much anything for Buck.

He stands, takes some cash out of his wallet for their drinks and places it on the bar. “Thank you Chelsea, seriously. This was...weird, and not a good first impression of me, but you’re a lifesaver.”

She smiles that warm smile again, and it feels real, no trace of pity or awkwardness. “No problem, I’m happy to help. Maybe we can get coffee sometime, as friends? I didn’t get a chance to dive into my own relationship woes.”

“Deal,” he says, laughing as he hands her his phone to actually get her number. They hug goodbye, and he all but sprints out the door and back to his truck, mind already racing trying to figure out what the hell he’s going to do once he gets to the firehouse. 

If he’s honest, this “date” really couldn’t have gone any better. He hopes the rest of his night turns out just as positive, too.

~~~~~~~~~~

The team’s in between calls when Eddie finally arrives, which is great but also does not give him a lot of time to prepare himself for whatever comes next. Rationally, he knows everything will be fine — the team will be thrilled for them, Buck will be thrilled — but there’s still that nagging voice telling him that Chelsea was wrong and that everything’s going to blow up in his face.

He shoves that voice as far away as he can and walks into the station.

There’s no plan this time beyond “find Buck”, which he does pretty quickly once he gets up to the loft. Everyone else is up here too, it seems, but he sees Buck first, curled up on the couch and watching Hen and Chim play Super Smash Bros. He has that same blank look he had on his face when he left Eddie’s earlier, and Eddie hates it. But that’s exactly what he came here to fix.

Buck double takes when he notices him at the top of the stairs, slowly unfurling himself to stand. “What are you doing here?”

A thousand thoughts fly through his head, trying to coalesce into some sweeping romantic speech that would reassure Buck of all the things Eddie’s sure he’s doubting right now. But nothing feels right, nothing even begins to scratch the surface of what Eddie’s feeling, has been feeling for the past months. Everything is fleeting and empty, pale in comparison to the technicolor love he feels every time Buck so much as looks in his direction.

Words aren’t working, but Eddie really isn’t a man of words anyway — he is, however, and man of action.

“I’m communicating,” he says, taking three long strides across the loft to Buck, grabbing his face in both of his hands, and kissing him hard. He tastes like smoke and peppermint and something fundamentally Buck that Eddie’s addicted to, and he feels a smile against his lips as Buck kisses him back in earnest. He’s not sure if it’s been seconds or years when they finally pull away from each other, but they’re both breathless and Buck is glowing and Eddie doesn’t care about anything else.

“I love you,” he says, hands still on Buck’s cheeks. “And I’m sorry. I’m always on your team, as long as you’ll let me be there.” 

Buck’s smile somehow gets even bigger. “Forever, ideally.”

Eddie’s laugh bubbles out of him as he leans back in, but stops when he hears a throat clearing somewhere to his right. He looks, and everyone — everyone, including people who were definitely downstairs when he got here — is staring at them with varying degrees of shock and excitement on their faces. Ripping the band-aid off works in his favor again.

“So,” Hen says slowly from the couch. “This is new.”

Eddie shrugs as he grabs Buck’s hand. “Not really. Unless six months old is new, I guess.”

“Six months old?”

“Closer to seven, actually,” Buck says.

There’s a clatter as Chim drops his controller and stands, arms up over his head. “That means I win!”

“Whoa, hold on, you do not—”

The loft erupts as everyone swarms Hen, talking technicalities and logistics of what was apparently a very elaborate betting pool. Buck hides his face in Eddie’s shoulder as he laughs.

“Do you think they’re actually happy for us?” Eddie asks. “Or mad that we screwed up their winnings?”

Buck looks up, resting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Probably both. But I’m the real winner here.”

“And a huge cheeseball,” Eddie says.

“Better get used to it, because you’re not getting rid of me,” Buck says, winding his arms around Eddie’s waist and kissing him again.

“Forever, right?” Eddie asks as they break apart, foreheads resting together. All he sees are Buck’s eyes, sparkling blue in the light of the loft and so full of happiness — happiness because of Eddie — that he wants to drown in them.

“Yeah. Forever. No turning back now.”

Eddie likes the sound of that.

[chrisevansluv]

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

If someone doesn't want to check the link, the anon sent the full interview!

[gamergirl929]

The NEW #1 Goalkeeper In The World (Hope Solo x Reader)

Anonymous Request: Could you do a hope solo one? Like where the reader is the number 1 goalkeeper in the USWNT while Hope is the new trainer and they flirt or something like that?

Hope smirks, watching as you knock a ball effortlessly out of goal before again catching it when it was fired back at you the woman nodding.  

You wipe your sweat covered face with your shirt, Hope’s blue orbs dropping to the sweat covered muscles on your torso.  

She turns away with an arched brow, clearing her throat when you’re close enough to her to hear.  

“You did good.” She shrugs and you turn to her, smiling softly. “But I could’ve done it better.” She winks and you chuckle.  

The banter between the two of you was playful, being the new #1 goalkeeper in the world, Hope had to challenge you as much as she could, always telling you how she could’ve done it better.  

“Well, Ms. Solo, maybe you’ll have to show me how it’s done?” You smirk and her brows arch, her lips splitting in a grin.  

“Oh, I can show you something...”  

You laugh, your cheeks pink from more than the exertion of practice as you take a swig of your water.  

“Always willing to learn.” You wink and Hope licks her lips.  

“Always willing to teach.”  

                                                        ***

Hope couldn’t keep her eyes off of you as you stretched, your muscle on full display, the retired goalkeeper would deny it if asked, but you incredibly distracted her, her blue orbs always drifting to you on field.

“Distracted?” Julie teases when she sees Hope’s eyes on you, the ex-goalie clearing her throat.  

“Not at all.” She shrugs looking at her clipboard and the blonde winks.  

“Sureeeeeeee.”  

Hope rolls her eyes, watching the blonde go with a glare before her eyes again drift to where you were, the woman frowning when she realizes you’re no longer there.  

“Looking for me?”  

Hope’s eyes widen when she turns to you, a smirk spreading across her face.  

“Just making sure you’re doing the right stretches is all... Wouldn’t want the #1 goalkeeper in the world going soft.”  

You roll your eyes, moving to stand in front of her, noting the way her eyes rake down your front.  

“As you can tell, since you’re shamelessly ogling me... I’m doing the right stretches.” You wink, Hope grinning as you turn around, strutting away.  

Hope watches you go, her blue orbs watch the muscles in your calves flex.  

“Not distracted my ass.” Julie snorts on her way by and Hope’s eyes narrow.  

“Shouldn’t you be practicing?”  

“Shouldn’t you be doing trainer things?” She teases and Hope grumbles.  

“Get out of here Ertz.”  

                                                        ***

You were pissed, jerking your gloves off of your sweaty hands.

The ref was entirely biased, not calling fouls and even going as far as to foul Alex in the box when she was nowhere near the Swedish player who went down.  

You’d blocked the PK with ease, but the fact you had to do it because of the ref’s biased had pissed you off.  

Hope’s eyes widen when she sees you send a glare to the ref much like her own that she was sending her.  

“Fucking bullshit.” You snarl on your way by, Hope’s eyes widening when the ref turns to you, the woman calling your name, before you can turn around, Hope is at your side, a hand on your back.  

“Pretend like you didn’t hear her.” She mumbles and you nod, muscle in your jaw jumping.  

“I know you’re pissed. I’m pissed. Vlatko’s pissed. Everyone is pissed.” She mumbles, guiding you forward, the ref still calling your name.  

“If she yells my name again I’m going to jail.” You snarl, the ref again calling your name.  

Your Y/E/C orbs lock with Hope’s blue orbs and she shakes her head.  

“No.”  

You growl, but begrudgingly make your way to the locker room, Hope basically guiding you back there so you don’t turn around and snap the ref in half.  

The second the locker room opens your back-line moves to their feet, but you hold a hand up, shaking your head.  

“It’s not you guys, it’s the ref.” You growl angrily, flopping down in a nearby chair. “That PK was utter bullshit, and I’m pretty sure I’m getting a yellow card next half.” You mumble under your breath and Vlatko’s brows furrow.  

“For what?”  

“I said fucking bullshit, to myself, but the ref was trying to stop me from coming in the locker room.” You roll your eyes.  

“Listen, I know you’re all incredibly angry, but the best thing we can do is take it to Sweden in the second half.” Vlatko says and the team nods, Hope giving you a pat on the back before she moves to stand beside him.  

                                                        ***

The second you step out of the locker room and onto the field the ref is on you.  

“I don’t appreciate you speaking to me like you did.”  

You swallow hard, willing to God to keep you from strangling a bitch.  

“Listen, for one I wasn’t saying it to you, for two-

The ref retrieves a yellow card and your eyes widen, a grin spreading across your face.  

“You have GOT to be kidding me.” You throw your head back with a groan, Vlatko and Hope immediately on either side of you.  

“And may I ask what the yellow card is for exactly?” Hope asks, sending the ref a glare and she turns away.  

“Profanity.”  

You put your gloved hands together, looking up at the sky.  

“God, forgive me for what I’m about to do...”  

Just as the words leave your mouth, Hope grabs you, as does Vlatko, the two dragging you to the bench, your teammates watching with wide eyes.  

“No Y/N, make her pay by demolishing the team she thinks so highly of...” Vlatko pats your back and you take a deep breath, glancing at Hope who nods.  

“Embarrass her.”  

You glance at the ref, who looks your way, her eyes narrowed as a grin spreads across your face.  

“Oh, I’m going to do more than that.”  

                                                        ***

Embarrass her you did, swaggering passed the ref after a shutout game, a single goal hadn’t got passed you, but a few balls ended up in the back of the net on the other end.  

You can’t help yourself, biting your tongue between your teeth as you send the ref a wink the woman sending you a deadly glare.  

“She’s nearly just as cocky as you.”  

Hope turns to Tobin, rolling her eyes at the forward’s grin.  

"Eh, it takes a lot to be THAT cocky.” Alex giggles as she stands beside the two, watching with a grin as Sonnett goes to shake your hand, you jerk it back, pretending to slick your hair back.  

Hope can’t hold back a chuckle as she, Lindsey and the other team’s children practically dog pile on you, though still, even with so many bodies on you, you don’t flinch, even when Sam climbs onto your back.  

Hope’s smile softens at the grin on your face, the girls all grunting and groaning as you, somehow, manage to move, even with the girls hanging off of you.  

Tobin’s eyes narrow as they dart from Hope, to you and back.  

“Ms. Solo are you crushing on our #1 goalkeeper?” Tobin teases, earning a glare that would scare a starving bear off, but of course, it doesn’t deter Tobin Heath.  

“I do not have a crush on her.” She growls, a loud snort sounding from someone nearby.  

“Yeah, right.” Julie rolls her eyes on her way by and Hope snarls.  

“I don’t.” She mumbles under her breath, but one look across field, at your massive smile her heart skips a beat.  

Hope sighs.  

“Fuck.”

                                                        ***

You’d noticed after that, that Hope had put a significant amount of distance between the two of you, the playful banter and teasing between the two completely stopping, much to your consternation.  

Hope’s eyes catch yours and your mouth drops open, ready to talk to the woman for the first time in weeks, but before you can she abruptly turns away.  

You huff, head hanging in sadness as you move back towards goal.  

“What’s wrong?”  

You turn to Julie Ertz with a small frown.  

“Hope won’t talk to me...” You swallow hard, taking a seat on the turf, Julie taking a seat beside you.  

Julie’s blue orbs narrow as she looks across field, catching Hope’s blue orbs on her.  

“Did something happen?” She asks and you shrug, fiddling with a blade of grass. 

“Not that I’m aware of.” You shrug, swallowing hard.  

Julie grimaces, her blue orbs locked with Hope’s.  

“How long has this been going on?” She asks and you fidget nervously with the straps of your gloves.  

“A couple weeks.”  

Julie hums, still glaring at her old friend.  

“I’m sure things will get back to how they were.” Julie grins and you shrug.  

“I hope you’re right.”  

                                                        ***  

Hope can’t help but scowl when she sees Lucy Bronze make a beeline towards you, a massive grin on the woman’s face as she throws her arms around you.  

Hope scowl furthers when you lift the woman in the air, giving her a spin.  

The two of you had been overseas for a while and needless to say, you’d gotten rather close.  

Hope watches intently, her arms crossed across her chest as Lucy jumps up, pressing a kiss to your cheek, at least where she can reach and you throw your head back with a laugh.

The former goalie’s eyes widen when you point from Lucy to you, the two of you pulling your jerseys over your head, swapping them and slipping them on, your jersey a bit bigger on Lucy.  

Hope swallows hard as you slip an arm around Lucy, the two of you walking around field, talking to USWNT plays and England players alike.  

Hope didn’t realize though that she wasn't the ONLY one watching the interaction between you and Lucy Bronze, the media was watching as well.  

                                                        ***

You weren’t even off the field before pictures began to surface, and by the time you hit the hotel, fans and the media were in a frenzy, everyone questioning the relationship between you and Lucy Bronze.  

“You have to admit, you two look cute together.” Emily gives you a nudge and you scoff, shaking your head as you follow your teammates into the hotel.  

“Oh, trust me, I’ve definitely noticed and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it...” You wink, the defender snickering.  

“Ohhhh, are the rumors true!?” Kelley teases and you roll you eyes, smacking her shoulder.  

“No, we’re just friends.”  

“You’re just friends for nowwwwwwwwwww.” Megan pats your back and your cheeks flush.  

“Shut up.”  

Meanwhile, at the back of the group, Hope is walking between Julie and Tobin, the two sharing a glance.  

“She won’t wait forever.” Tobin says as she leans towards the angry goalkeeper, the woman sending her a glare.  

“And you aren’t talking to her anymore, why?” Julie asks and Hope growls.  

“I know she won’t just back off.”

She moves a little further ahead, just catching the conversation between you and Emily.  

“You have to admit, you two look cute together.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve definitely noticed and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it...”

Hope’s stomach twisted in jealousy, and regret.  

Maybe she was too late?  

                                                        ***

You weren’t going to lie, you missed Hope Solo.  

You missed the playful banter between the two of you, you missed the way her eyes would sparkle when the two of you talked, and the cocky smirk on her face. 

“You look a little lost.”  

You glance up, clearing your throat remembering you were in the locker room talking before the game, your eyes just happened to drift to Hope and your thoughts took over.  

You clear your throat again, smiling at Tobin.  

“Just spaced out.” You shrug and the forward hums, glancing at Hope who you’d been staring at before you spaced out.  

“Happens to the best of us.”  

Hope’s eyes dart from Tobin, to you and back, the woman frowning at the crestfallen look on your face.  

It had been nearly two months since the two of you talked and you were off you game, missing shots on goal that you would NEVER miss.  

Tactic talks for the game end and you move to your feet, rubbing the back of your neck and taking a deep breath.

Canada had always been a formidable foe, and you worried that you would again mess up like you had the following game against Japan, missing an easily blockable goal.  

The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you turn around, your eyes widening when you see the USWNT former #1 goalkeeper standing before you, wearing a small smile.  

“Good luck today, I hope you impress me.” She smirks and your eyes widen. You biting your bottom lip to stave a grin, your cheeks flushing.  

“Oh, I will.”  

                                                        ***

And impress her you did, you were on fire, blocking ball after ball, blocking shots most would never be able to, but you were the #1 goalkeeper after all.  

The game had ended in a shut out for you, the score 3-0 with USWNT the overall winners.  

Something so simple as Hope speaking to you rejuvenated you in a way you didn’t think was possible, but with that rejuvenation came the feelings you’d been suppressing.  

You thought of the former goalie as more than just a trainer, more than just a friend, you were falling for the woman and falling hard.  

“Excuse me Y/N, may we get a word?”  

You turn to a grinning reporter, the camera man behind you giving you an equally toothy grin.  

“Of course.”  

“First off congrats on an amazing performance, you blocked goals I thought myself were unblockable.” She beams and you smile.  

“Thank you so much.”  

“I’m sure you’ve seen the fans reaction to your performance in the Japan game, but with a shutout game against one of the USNWT biggest rivals, what do you say to your doubters?”  

You hum, smiling when you feel a pat on the back.  

“Honestly, I’d say everyone has off days, I was off my game then, we all have days like that, but I’d like to think that’s past me.”  

“I’d be remissed to not ask about certain photos surfacing of you and Lucy Bronze, England’s WNT’s defender... What’s going on there?”  

You open your mouth to respond, but are cut off when someone moves to stand beside you, that someone being Hope Solo.  

“Do you have any RELEVANT questions about the game?” She asks fiercely and your eyes widen, darting to the reporter who swallows hard.  

“I ummm...”  

“Well then this interview is over.” Hope sneers, glancing at you before taking her leave.  

You watch her go in utter confusion, mouth agape and eyes wide before you turn to the reporter.  

“I’m sorry, I have no idea what that was about, but I’m going to find out.”  

                                                        ***

“What the hell was that? That wasn’t necessary.” You yell as you chase after the woman who’d tried to disappear within the arena’s backrooms.  

“First off, I don’t need you telling me what’s necessary, and secondly are you not tired of getting questioned about Bronze?” She asks, arms crossed across her chest. “Unless you actually ARE into her.”  

Your eyes narrow.  

“I mean she is cute.” You shrug, noting the spark of something in Hope’s blue orbs.  

“Well, then maybe you should talk to her about that.” She rolls her eyes, turning away but you grab her wrist, stopping her before she can take even take a step. 

“Are you jealous?” You ask, surprised the words left your mouth and Hope turns towards you abruptly.  

“Why the hell would I be jealous?” She snarls. “Jealous of what? Of who?”  

You glance around, pulling the woman, who puts up no fight into a nearby room so your conversation doesn’t have any prying eyes.  

"What’s the problem? You may have been ignoring me, but I’ve never seen you act like... That.” You motion to the door and Hope growls.  

“There is no problem, I’m sick of hearing about Lucy Bronze! Lucy Bronze this, Lucy Bronze that.” She throws her arms up in the air and your eyes widen.  

A familiar spark in Hope’s blue orbs make your Y/E/C orbs widen further.  

“Are you jealous?”  

Hope turns to you with a loud laugh.  

“Jealous of what? Of you?!” She snickers. “Why would I be jealous of you?” She asks and you smirk.  

“I didn’t say you were jealous of me...” Your eyes dart around her face. “I meant jealous of Lucy.” Your smirk widens and she laughs even louder, a humorless laugh.  

“There is no way I’m jealous of Lucy Bronze!”  

“Really? Because you seem pretty jealous to me.”  

“Who would be jealous when you’re just a cocky ass...”  

You scoff.  

“Oh, I’m the cocky one, what about you?”  

“What about me!?” Hope growls and your lip curls in a snarl as you move closer.

“You’re self-centered!”

Hope pokes your chest.  

“And you’re arrogant.”  

“Condescending.” You spit back and Hope snarls.  

“ANNOYING!”  

The door abruptly swings open, Alex’s blue orbs wide as they dart from you, to Hope and back.  

“I heard yell- I'll just go now.” She clears her throat, going to shut the door behind her.

You turn to Hope, the veteran goalie snarling before she shoves past Alex and moves out of the room, leaving you behind.  

“What the hell just happened?” Alex asks and you shrug.  

“I have no idea.”  

                                                        ***

You bury your face in your gloved hands, taking a deep breath.  

The whistle signaling half time had already begun, but you still haven’t moved.  

The game had been absolutely brutal, so much so that the USWNT were down 0-3 against Brazil, which was mostly your fault, you knew it was your fault and STILL you were missing shots on goal.  

“Hey, come on.”  

You glance up the former #1 goalkeeper in the world holding her hand out to you, a hand that you reluctantly take.  

Hope slips an arm around you as the two of you make your way across the field. 

“You’re getting inside your head too much.” She whispers and you shake your head.  

“It’s my fault we’re losing.”  

Hope huffs.  

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about, it’s not just you making mistakes, this isn’t all on you Y/N, get out of your head and focus on the game, I know you can do it, you’re not the #1 goalkeeper in the world for nothing. You’re the most talented goalkeeper in the world and I am so proud to have you on our team, to be your trainer.”  

You stop, your eyes glazing over as you stare into Hope’s blue orbs.  

“Do you...” You swallow hard, glancing down at your feet. “Do you mean that?” You ask, voice below a whisper and she nods, grinning.  

“Of course, I do.”  

                                                        ***

The second you get back in goal you nod to yourself, glancing around the stadium.  

Slowly, your eyes drift to Hope, the woman giving you a nod and a smile.  

“Let’s fucking do this.” You jump up and down, smacking both of the goalposts. “Let’s FUCKING do this.” You say under your breath, Hope grinning as you jump up and slap the top of the goalpost.  

“LET’S GO.”  

                                                        ***

You flop onto the ground as the final whistle blows, this time though it’s not out of dismay, it’s out of relief.  

The second half the USWNT came back from out of nowhere, scoring 5 goals, 2 courtesy of Christen Press’s boot.  

You hadn’t missed a single shot on goal after getting back between the goal posts having been rejuvenated by Hope’s pep talk.  

“Hope.” You mumble under your breath before leaping to your feet and running off field, towards the former goalie with a massive grin.  

“I couldn’t have done with without you.” You shake your head, cheeks flushed, your face covered in sweat.  

Hope shakes her head, taking a step towards you, the last thing you see is an eye roll before the woman leans in, pressing her lips against yours.  

You inhale sharply, the air leaving your lungs as the woman’s lips meet yours. Hope smiles the second your lips start moving, the woman’s arms wrapped around your neck as she pulls you close.  

The two of you eventually part, neither going far as Hope rests her forehead against yours.  

“Yes, you could’ve done it without me Y/N.” She whispers and you grin.  

“I knew you were jealous.” You tease, Hope again rolling her eyes.  

“Shut up.”  

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 7

Word Count: 4,131

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning and Pens (others)

Notes: So today was like crazy busy, but I was able to finish this tonight then do a quick edit. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but here it is anyhow...haha! Hope you guys have a great weekend! Happy Reading!

As you followed Logan to the lobby, you thought for sure this was going to be another false alarm, just as the rest had been. Why after all this time in the bubble had these men decided to fight, you had no idea? You knew tensions were high with games starting but they all had seemed fairly cordial with each other. There were about a dozen players gathered round when you saw the first fist fly and suddenly your heart rate sped up. You wormed your way to the front, to see who the hell was fighting. You weren't surprised to see Brad Marchand mixing it up with one of the Flyers but you couldn't quite tell who it was as their back was to you.

 The two teams had just come off a round-robin game, that you had no clue as to who won as you'd been busy working the entire time and not caught any of the game, but it obviously left a bad taste in their mouths. As Marchand swung with his right hand, the two twisted and it was then that you saw Travis Konecny was the one he was fighting with. While you knew that TK was a bit of a chirper, you'd seen a completely different side to him that first night in the bubble. You'd honestly thought he'd be the least of your worries here, other than maybe calling you up again to say his bed squeaked, yet here you were watching him take a jab at Marchand. Not that Marchand probably didn't deserve it, hell you wanted to take a swing at him the other day when he'd shoved you into the pool.

 You looked around at the other players that had gathered hoping one of them would put an end to this whole mess, but they seemed more entertained than anything. Part of you wondered if this went on would more of them end up fighting? TK had a nice right hook into Marchand's jaw and you saw them stumble back knocking a vase of flowers off the entry table and shattering it. That's when you knew you had to do something. "That's enough boys," you yelled trying to use your most authoritative voice, but it was ignored as Marchand threw a punch to Konecny's abdomen. At some point, you were sure this was going to turn into a wrestling match with the two of them lying on the ground amidst shards of glass. You gave a sharp whistle hoping that you sounded like one of the refs during play and that they would at least calm a bit, which they did. It was at that moment you chose to try and break the actual fight up, apparently feeling more like a referee now that you'd got them to just circle each other, neither one letting go just yet.  Taking your arms, you moved between the two hotheads saying, "I said stop fucking fighting in my…" You weren't exactly sure what happened next but you felt a partial fist fly to your jaw. It knocked you off your feet and sent you stumbling back hitting your head against the table the vase had been on moments ago.

 "Holy fuck!" Someone yelled. You closed your eyes to stave off the pain that was now not only in your jaw but also on the back of your head. "Jesus, are you ok?"

 "I don't think she is."

 "She's bleeding."

 You had no clue who was saying what but you could feel a million pairs of eyes on you. "Someone call one of the trainers."

 "I'm fine," you managed to mumble out while opening your eyes, only to have your vision blurred by blood trickling down. "Ok, maybe not." About five players were kneeling down around you, or maybe it was four, it was hard to tell as the blood obscured your view. Finally, someone gently pressed something against your forehead to stave off the flow.

 "Fuck (Y/N), I'm so sorry, you got messed up in this." It was Travis's voice you were sure of it and not because you knew Marchand would never apologize but because you recognized it from your night with him. Only he wasn't surrounding you at the moment.

 "Next time keep it on the ice and not in my hotel." You went to sit up but felt a little woozy. A strong arm clamped around your waist. It was the same person who was holding, what you now believed to be said person's shirt, against your head.

 "I think we need to get you somewhere else then this lobby." The voice was smooth and rich, and pleasing to listen to, yet every time you tried to see who it belonged the damn t-shirt was in your way.

 "You can take her to her suite." This voice you knew, for you'd been plotting to strangle him so many times over the last several days, it was hard to forget.

 "Thanks, Logan, I was just going to say that."

 "Here hold this and I'll carry you." In one easy swoop, strong arms scooped you up, and then he was standing with you in his arms. He was shirtless and you could feel his muscles bunch as he held you. Vaguely you realized where his shirt was at, as you held it to your head.

 "Logan, can you clean this up, please? And have Carly get new flowers in here." You saw him scurry away out of the corner of your left eye.

 "I'm sure there's someone in charge here that can take care of that." The man who was now carrying you off to the elevator said.

 "Yeah, that's me," you told him catching a glimpse of soft brown curls as you again tried to get a good look at his face.

 "Oh, I didn't realize." Which seemed funny considering how everyone at the hotel seemed to know who you were.  "What floor?"

 "Penthouse."

 "Well, I guess you are in charge then." He laughed and you found yourself joining in, even though your head hurt a bit. The ride on the elevator was short and soon you were in your room and he was setting you down on the sofa. "I'll grab you some ice if you steer me in the right direction."

 "Kitchen is down the hall on the left." He turned and you got a view of his well-defined ass as he walked away. God, even the muscles on his back were sexy. You heard him rummage around a bit and you wondered how bad you actually looked. You were too far away from the hallway mirror to find out, but you imagined you had blood in your hair from the cut; you just hoped your jaw wasn't sporting a nice bruise. It was then, that he walked out of the kitchen and you were finally face to...well somewhat face to face, with your rescuer, Josh Anderson. It was no wonder that he didn't know you, as he wasn't currently staying at your hotel. "Now, let's see that pretty face of yours," he said while cupping the good side of your jaw. "I don't think it'll bruise too bad. Didn't look like Marchy got you full force with that hit." Josh gingerly put the ice to the spot that had been hit.

 "I should've figured it was Marchand that hit me. He's had it out for me since he got here."

 "Marchy has it out for everyone, but I can't see why he would pick on someone as beautiful as you." The compliment caused you to blush, but thankfully between Josh's shirt and the ice, you didn't think he'd notice.

 "Not sure what I ever did to him, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me."

 "Well, his loss is my gain." It was Josh who was blushing a bit at his own words this time and you found it very attractive. "Now, let's have a look at that cut and see if it needs stitches." He brought his shirt down and examined your head. His lips just a hair's breadth away from yours making you ache to kiss him. "I think you'll be good with just some butterfly ones. It doesn't look that deep, though I can call our trainer and have him come over and double-check."

 "No that's ok. I'm sure your right. I have some upstairs." You went to get up and he placed a supporting arm around your waist.

 "Here why don't you just let me…" Before you could even take a step, he scooped you back up into his arms and started up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He made it seem like carrying you around was nothing, and honestly, it was sexy as hell. He set you down at the vanity stool in the bathroom. "Ok, so where are bandages?"

 "Top shelf there is a medical kit with some in." He grabbed it, shuffling through it to find what he needed. "This might sting a bit," he told you as he opened up an alcohol swab to clean the cut first. You winced as he gently stroked it over the wound. When he stepped back, you finally looked in the mirror at yourself.

 "Oh my god," the words were out of your mouth before you realized how they startled Josh.

 "Are you ok? Did I hurt you more?"

 "No, it's not that. I was just looking at my face…or maybe my hair." Dried blood covered half of your face and your hair was matted and tangled like a stray dog's. "I look like I walked out of the set of a horror movie."

 He laughed, brushing your hair back before placing the steri strip on your forehead. "It's not that bad."

 "I seriously need a shower."

 "Oh…uh…" Josh fumbled around with his words, looking very uncomfortable and you sort of chuckled to yourself. "I can leave you alone then…probably should be going anyway."

 "You don't have to," you mentioned casually, though you weren't sure that he would take you up on your silent offer with the way you looked at the moment. "I mean, I'm still a little unsteady on my feet." There wasn't a whole lot you knew about Josh Anderson but what you did know of him, was that he was the protector type; so you tried to play to that sensibility of his.

 "Well, I wouldn't want you to fall in the shower and get hurt worse." There was a cute little smirk on his face and if you weren't doused in blood you would've kissed him. Instead, you stripped off your top, yet another piece of clothing ruined, you thought vaguely. Your skirt and shoes followed till you were left in nothing but your bra and panties. Josh made quick work of getting rid of his shorts and stood there in front of you in his boxer briefs. Reaching around you unclasp your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders and to the ground, before gliding your panties down your legs. Josh bit his lip as he drank in the sight of your body; his eyes lingered a bit long at your breasts before moving down to look at your pussy. Even though he still had his boxers on, you saw his cock twitch as he took you in. You let him drink his fill and when he didn't make a move, you stepped into the shower hoping that he would follow. He did within seconds.

 The water sprayed over your head diluting the blood that had been matted to your hair and skin. When you went to grab the shampoo, Josh's hand stopped you. "Let me." He put some in his hands, then started to massage it into your scalp. His fingers were gentle and he avoided your cut as best he could, sliding through your hair all the way down to the ends. When he was done, he had you rinse then followed up with conditioner. It was only as that rinsed out of your long strands that you finally turned to face him. Droplets of water coated his body, and there was a heated stare in his gaze. Josh was tall, so you went up on your toes so that you could kiss him. His arms immediately went to your waist to press you to him. Maybe it was his caring nature or the way that he'd just simply swooped in to take care of you, but your body just completely melted into him and you moaned into him as his tongue caressed yours. Josh was a sensual kisser; his mouth and tongue just working its magic on you as he ignited a flame deep within.

 His hands roamed around your back only to slide up your sides and move to your breast. Breaking the kiss, his lips traveled southward along your neck and collarbone until he was cupping a breast and bringing it to his lips. His tongue swirled around your nipple before he took it in his mouth and sucked on it. You felt yourself grow damp though it wasn't from the water cascading down on the two of you. Josh lavished each of your breasts, and with every tweak and caress you moaned out his name. When his fingers skated down past your stomach to slip between your folds, you thought you would die from the pleasure he was giving you. It was nothing like the other night with Tom. Josh knew exactly what he was doing. Listening as you moaned out what you liked, so he could repeat the action again. "I want to taste you so bad," he whispered, before dropping to his knees. You backed up against the shower wall, and he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder. His tongue slipped out to lick a strip between your folds, and you found your hands threading into his hair to urge him on. They were small little licks at first before he actually sunk his tongue deep in your pussy. You tossed your head back forgetting about your injury, but not caring when he repeated the action. His nose nudged your clit as he licked at you furiously. Your hips started to buck and one strong arm, held you upright and secure against the wall, as his mouth suctioned on to your clit.

 "Yes Josh, fuck that feels so good." You panted out, as your hand locked around the back of his head. He slid two fingers into your pussy easily, pumping them in and out, while he continued his torturous treatment on your clit. Your orgasm hit as he made that simple come-hither movement with his fingers. Your legs shaking, body writhing as the pleasure overtook you. He dropped your leg back down when you finally came down from your high. Moving gracefully off the bathroom tile, Josh stood up and kissed you. Your essence still lingering there on his lips, as his cock pressed hard against your stomach.

 Reaching down you clasp your hand around the length of him; twisting your hand as you stroked him, in a way that had him hissing out his pleasure. "Fuck (Y/N), I just need to be in you." He moaned out. "It's been way too long." He drew your leg up again to wrap around his waist this time, allowing him easier access to the place he longed to be. His cock nudged between your folds, the head just inside you. Josh was thick and as he slowly slipped inside you; you could feel your pussy stretch to accommodate him. "Damn you're tight." You weren't sure if that was the case or if he was just so big, but you knew he felt delicious as he bottomed out. He took a minute, just looking you in the eyes as he stayed buried deep inside you.

 In the next second, his lips were on yours and he started to move. His tongue mimicking what his cock was doing, as he thrust in and out of you. You were simply two bodies sliding together as the water pelted down on you. Josh pinned you to the shower wall again, his strong arms biting into your waist and you thought you'd have bruises there but you knew he was also keeping you from falling down to the tiles. You looped your arms around his shoulders, so your hips could meet each of his thrusts. The water caused your leg to slip off his hip. "Josh…" you panted out.

 "I know," he hissed and he was pulling out of you so that you both could be more comfortable. He twisted your body so that your back rested against his chest for a moment before, bending you down. You spread your legs wide giving him greater access to your cunt so he could glide back in. Using the bench seat, you placed your hands there to hold on as Josh grabbed ahold of your hips before thrusting back in. Moans echoed off the bathroom walls as your bodies slammed together. "Fuck, yeah baby," Josh groaned as you pushed your ass back against him.

 His hand on your hip, snaked down so his finger could rub circles around your clit. "Yes…Josh…yes." He had you teetering on the edge in no time. It was when his other hand drew you halfway up and his lips bit down on your neck that you completely lost it, cuming with a loud moan. Your legs shook and felt like they would give out but Josh held you close still pumping in and out of you as you came down from your high. He pounded in and out of you a few more times, before thrusting even deeper into you and spilling himself inside your pussy. A guttural moan left his mouth and his fingers dug deep into your hips holding you still as he came.

 He stayed inside you for a minute as he said, "Damn, I needed that." Dropping kisses on your shoulder, he slowly pulled out. "Thank you," he said softly, turning you around so he could once again capture your lips in a sweet kiss. "We should probably finish up." You knew he was right, though you were out of energy after two orgasms. Josh must have sensed this for he grabbed your loofah and the shower gel, and started to wash your body. His touch was gentle and he added more soap to his hands, abandoning the sponge as he washed your breasts and pussy. You couldn't help the moan that left your mouth as he touched you; your body still sensitive. "God, you are so sexy. I could…" He didn't finish the sentence.

 "You could what?"

 "You've already given me enough. Especially with this," his hand brushed the water off your forehead where your cut was. You'd completely forgotten about it. Your eyes dropped down to his cock, where you could see it coming back to life.

 "I'm fine Josh," you told him, looking him in the eye. "Though maybe we should get out of this shower."

 He chuckled lightly. "Agreed."

 He went to turn off the water and you stopped him. "Let me at least wash you a bit first." Josh eyed you funny considering he really wasn't the one that needed to shower. "Humor me." He shrugged and you grabbed the soap. The feel of his hard muscles under your soapy hands, made you tingle all over again. By the time you reached his cock, it was back to being erect. The suds made it easy to work your hand up and down the length. This time it was Josh that was moaning as you pumped him up and down.

 "Babe," his voice warned, as he gripped your wrist and you knew it was time to rinse off and continue this out from under the water. He grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist before taking another so that he could dry you off. His fingers were swift yet gentle as he made quick work of drying you, then did the same for himself. The two of you shared more soft kisses as you headed to the bedroom for round two, which was just as magical as it was in the shower. "I should probably head back to my hotel before I'm missed," Josh finally said as the two of you laid in bed.

 You hummed your agreement. "I forgot for a little bit that you're not staying here."

 "Well hopefully we'll get to move over here soon and maybe we could continue this." The idea of spending more time with Josh was definitely appealing and something that could be happening soon.

 "I'd like that," you told him as he kissed your lips one more time before crawling out of bed. "I'll walk you down."

 "You don't have to, but you should get some ice on that jaw." He tipped your head to the side and winced. "It's starting to bruise a bit."

 "Ugh, at least it doesn't hurt."

 "You're one tough cookie." He pulled on his boxers and shorts, while you grabbed a robe. "You know I'm not opposed to beating the shit out of Marchand for you."

 "Don't bother, he's not worth you getting into trouble."

 "Well, I'm sure he'll get his somehow," he gave you a little wink and you wondered what he was planning with that statement. "So this was fun…well except that part." He gently touched your bandaged head before kissing you. "See you soon?"

 "I sure hope so." With one last kiss, he left you alone, and you went to grab the ice he talked about earlier. Now that you were done having your fun with Josh, you realized your jaw did hurt a bit, but a couple of aspirin would help. You headed back upstairs to grab the meds, then laid back down on the bed, texting Carly to make sure everything was fine, which it was and she told you to take it easy.

 You were half asleep when your phone rang; a FaceTime call from Tyler popping up on the screen. "Hey Ty," you answered sleepily.

 "Hey…omg what happened to you?"

 In your half-asleep state, you'd forgotten about the bruise and cut on your face. "I stupidly tried to break up a fight. It didn't go well."

 "Jesus babe, are those stitches?" There was concerned laced in Tyler's voice, as well as a worried look on his face.

 "No just butterflies. I'm fine." The look he gave you said he thought you were lying. "I swear it's not that bad."

 "Who the hell was fighting? Better yet, who do I have to kill?" You winced, not really wanting to tell him. "(Y/N), I swear to god if you don't tell me…"

 You weren't sure what he was going to do if you didn't tell him, but there was also no point in hiding the truth. "It was TK and Marchand, though apparently, it was Marchy's fist that caught me."

 "That fucking son of bitch." His face was getting red with anger. "I'm gonna kill him."

 "Easy tiger," you tried to tease but you could tell he wasn't having any of it. He started to pace around the room. "What are you doing?"

 "Packing. I told you I'm going to beat the shit out of him."

 "Tyler, you're not a fighter." He finally stopped at your words.

 "I'll still beat him to within an inch of his life."

 "Oh, stop. I'm fine. And you're not coming here. You're in the damn bubble and not going anywhere on my behalf." Tyler had a tendency to overreact at times and this was one of them, though you'd never seen him this angry before. "With a little makeup, you won't even see it."

 "You can't stop me from calling him and bitching him out."

 "Well, if it gets him to settle down in my hotel, I'll gladly take the help." It would be nice not having to worry about being thrown in the pool again or him starting up fights with another player. "But enough about that, tell me about your day?" The two of you chatted for over an hour, Tyler never once hinting about anything sexual happening, which surprised you a bit. It was nice though just talking about everything and anything with him. You always had this easy banter with him, but this just felt different. "Hey, I have another call coming in. Can I call you later?"

 "You can call me anytime babe. Feel better." He kissed you over the phone and you did the same for him before hanging up.

 You didn't recognize the number, but said hello anyhow only to be met with, "Hey (Y/N), I need your help?"

[epicspheal]

Pokemon SwSh Hot Take: Hop and Leon’s Family

Hop and Leon’s family have created a very unhealthy dynamic which has had direct negative effects on both Hop and Leon, though Hop got the short end of the stick by far...

[Image Description: A picture of the living room Hop and Leon’s House. There’s a Purrloin standing on its hind legs going “Meeeow!”. There are a bunch of trophies and plaques that are Leon’s that lining the bookshelf. Over the fireplace are numerous Trophies and pictures of Leon. None of Hop]

So let’s start off with the shrine to Leon. Not a picture of Hop in sight. You’d think they only had one son by the sheer lack of any nods to poor little Hop. It get’s even worse when you actually talk to them. Both their mum and grandma only talk about Leon. No mention of Hop whatsoever. Only about keeping Leon’s room clean and how now Leon gets to come home and eat now that’s he no longer champion. Their grandpa does speak about Hop but..

[Image Description: The Player Character talking to the man sitting in Hop and Leon’s living room. There are debates as to whether he is their father or grandfather. The man is saying “Even though Leon is no longer the Champion, he’s still a superhero to Hop.]

[Image Description: Continuation of dialogue from the above picture. The man on the couch states “Now that both are Trainers, Hop must’ve realizes Leon is even greater than he’d imagined”]

It’s only in relation to Leon. I picked the above picture as that happens after we become champion. After Hop (not Leon) helps us in that raid battle with Eternatus. After Hop calms and captures the opposite legendary dog. He does something his brother can never claim to achieve, and Leon is still the sole focus of attention? I’m sorry what? Hop’s rare league card gives him more credit than his own family and that’s sad. How Hop didn’t start resenting his older brother after getting crush by Bede does is beyond me. Honestly that would’ve been interesting to see Hop get mad at his older brother because of the shadow he’s lived in but I digress...

[Image Description: Picture of the player character, Hop and Sonia in front of the statue of the Galarian Hero in the Budew Drop Inn. In the background there are other gym challengers in their gym challenge uniforms and Team Yell harrassing the hotel Clerk. Sonia is speaking to the Player character saying “Leon really worries about him, too. He practically raised him after all”]

Now even though it’s very clear that Hop definitely got the short end of the stick when it comes to the family, this family dynamic is also not healthy for Leon. I’ve purposefully left out their father because it’s unclear if their father is dead or a deadbeat and I don’t want to trash their father if he got ate by a flock of Wooloo. But regardless, their dad isn’t in the picture and Leon somehow had to step in and raise Hop. Even though they have a perfectly capable grandpa right there for a paternal figure not to mention their grandma could still be a maternal figure in addition to their mom. But no...Leon had to raise Hop. That is in no way fair to put that on a child especially when you have perfectly good parental substitutes nearby. That is an obscene level of pressure.

[Image Description: A picture of Opal’s note in her gym on Leon’s performance in her gym during his initial gym challenge. It reads “Leon: Fail, Number of Correct Answers: 1 Your talent in Pokemon battles is beyong anything I’ve ever seen, but you’re rather hard to read...]

Bringing back Opal’s notes, Leon is incredibly hard to read.  To Opal of all people. At 10. And no one bats an eye. To be that guarded, that young and yet his mum and grandparents don’t seem to see that as wrong. Between his own family using him as daddy-substitute and then being the face of Galar (and not being able to show weakness while champion), that’s a recipe for serious trust issues and an inability to to be vulnerable. Not to mention the constant stream of praise can easily lead to becoming perfectionistic (which is common in high achievers such as Leon). That is also not healthy and could definitely lead to some issues down the road now that he is no longer champion. You know who needed to see Leon vulnerable the most? Hop. And yet that’s nigh impossible since it’s more or less been instilled in Leon to be strong always, especially in front of his brother. And that creates a cycle that just drives a wedge between the two brothers. It would have been interesting to see Gamefreak play this dynamic up. Let Hop get a little frustrated about being in Leon’s shadow, let him lash out a bit at Leon. Let Leon snap in response, finally let his guard down, and finally be vulnerable and remind Hop he’s still human. Let Leon know he can be vulnerable around his brother. Let them reconnect after the legendary plot (with Hop still being the one to save the day) to let Hop have some glory and it be acknowledged. So Tl;dr- Hop and Leon’s family aren’t healthy for either of them (especially Hop). And a storyline that addressed the issues that spring up from their unhealthy family dynamic by focusing more on their bond as brothers would have been interesting to see

[mrwilliameames]

things Arthur has done

- he’s let me sleep longer than him while having a kip and he’s gotten up and made delicious baked goods or sometimes, a full course dinner.

- When I find things for him online usually lingerie, he’ll go behind my back and order it, then surprise me by wearing it.

- He learned the choreography for ‘Body’ so he could do it for me and thoroughly impress me.

- When Arthur was first diagnosed with bipolar disorder, I decided to educate myself after mistakenly thinking I could just live with it. I didn’t want to make a big deal about it so I bought a highly recommended book and took notes and marked certain passages in it. Arthur found it in my office one day and started to cry because he said he never felt so seen and understood before.

- When I had my accident a few years ago and broke my leg and had some back damage, when I was regaining consciousness and they asked me questions, supposedly, all I did was ask for Arthur and snapped at the nurse when she asked me if I knew what year it was and said "I know what bloody year it is, I want to know where my husband is!” I say supposedly because I was still a little out of it and don’t remember.

- I use to play a lot of video games and I only really liked playing them if Arthur would sit on my lap so I could hold him while I played. But that started to have a Pavlovian effect on me and I couldn’t stop getting hard if he sat on my lap.

- He knows I love his pasta more than life itself and when he makes it for me, it’s like seduction.

- He loves coffee. We have a little area in our kitchen just for his fancy coffee machines, yes machines; for lattes/cappuccinos and a regular one for drip coffee because he refuses to get one big one (he says it tastes different). He’ll spring for that high priced Hawaiian coffee, grind his own beans, do the French press thing, all of it. He’s got special mugs for certain drinks too, it’s all so endearing.

- We’ve never been apart with the exception of a handful of hours since we’ve been together. Even at the time worse when we lived in the cursed house, it was only hours we were apart.

- After years of not having a dog, Arthur surprised me with our first pup, Pickle. He’s the eldest of four.

- Anytime he has to get his depo shot, he falls into a low because of the side effects he gets from it so I wrap him up in my clothes and put him to bed and keep him company. I bring our pups up to keep him warm and comfortable when I have to get up for any reason. He usually wakes up feeling better, but he has his days where he’s not all the way there yet.

- He loves to be hyper American around me and telling I’m pronouncing things incorrectly i.e garage, aluminum, herb. He’ll tell me they’re cookies, not biscuits, sneakers not trainers and so on. But then I get him back by asking him if he wants CAWFEE. He always gives me a face and it makes me laugh.

- When we were on holiday in Greece and we were leaving the hotel, I lost track of him as we were checking out. When I turned I couldn’t find him and I was slightly worried until I saw him pop out of the gift shop. He told me he couldn’t decide what magnet to buy for my (now ours) collection at home.

- My best mate Yusuf thinks we’re absolutely sickening around each other. He says that when Arthur leaves a room, I follow him out and keep an eye on the door and sit up straight when he comes back in. Arthur does the same thing.

- One time, I was walking into the kitchen after working in my office and he was dancing around with the pups, music playing while he sang along and he was just having the best time, it was so precious to see him having so much fun.

- Sometimes he’ll wake me up by kissing me and touching me everywhere though I’m slow to wake up, even if he tries to initiate sex because I’m a heavy sleeper. He’ll get upset because there’s been times when he’s full on gotten on top of me and riding me and I’ll still be mostly asleep. I’ve gotten better though.

- On the rare occasions I don’t feel well, Arthur is right there, forcing me to stay in bed and he’ll bring me tea and feed me soup while he sits beside me. If I have a headache, he’ll massage my shoulders and my neck until I fall asleep. He can’t stand the idea of me not being well and worries so much if I’m not at full capacity.

- My poker face has completely failed around him and he can read me better than anyone at any given time. He knows when I’m upset or angry and he doesn’t let me bottle things up anymore so we talk it out, no matter what.

[theparanormalperiodical]

The REAL Story Behind The Omen (1976) And The 7 Most Terrifying Omens You Should Definitely Know About

You don't get much irony in horror.

You get buckets of fake blood, you get lashings of sexism with subtle notes of transphobia, and you have dozens of plot holes to get twisted up in. But The Omen (1976) in a very dark, very deathy way, was ironic.

Somehow a film about the rise of the Antichrist - AKA the end of the world - would be accompanied by wild animal attacks, sudden deaths, and even a decapitation. Yep, The Omen was, well, an omen. In fact, this cult classic horror flick is known as one of the most cursed films to date as a result of the story put to the screen and the events that took place behind it.

But the infamous tales surrounding this movie is not the only time an omen has preceded horrific events. In fact, we've been searching for signs of what is to come for millennia. Some of these signs still haunt our darkest nightmares.

You need to look out for them.

Today we will be determining just how accurate the portrayal of The Omen is to the prophecies of the Antichrist, the spooky events that took place behind the camera, and any other signs of death or misfortune you should be wary of.

*crow caws in the distance*

First, let's recap The Omen

The Bible is undoubtedly the best-selling book of all time. And, just like many other chart-topping hits, it’s been turned into a whole host of films. Each has suffered its own onslaught of criticism for its unique take on scripture.

The Omen is one of them.

But The Omen doesn’t follow Jesus’ life story, nor does it CGI various jungle animals onto Noah’s ark. It follows the Antichrist from birth to demise across 3 films (including a made-for-TV Canadian movie which we’ve all agreed to not talk about). It charts the rise of Damien as he develops his paranormal powers and loosely fulfils the prophecies set out for the Devil’s spawn.

Our story starts at his mysterious birth: after a woman has a stillborn child, her husband swaps it for a child whose mother died at birth. When Damien is just 5 years old strange things begin to occur. Animals act strangely around him, various aggressive dogs appear - oh, and Damien’s nanny rudely interrupts his birthday party by throwing herself out of a window with a noose around her neck.

Enter a new nanny who is less Mary Poppins and more Mary Most-definitely-a-satanist-who-wants-to-protect-Damien-and-overthrow-Christ. Things get worse (yes, it’s possible) when everyone around Damien begins to slowly work out that he may or may not be the Antichrist and in turn get killed in assorted horrific - but also mildly hysterical - ways.

It’s the father of Damien (the adoptive one, not the actual Devil) who leads the investigation into his origins. He traces back Damien’s origins back to his dead mother’s grave. Turns out she was a jackal.

Enter the Antichrist expert - he gives Damien’s father the low-down on dealing with demonic children, and explains that the naughty-step is simply not enough. He has to be killed on hallowed ground with a collection of knives I’m pretty sure I saw on Antiques Roadshow. He takes the Daggers of Megiddo and his infant son into a local church, forces him onto the altar and prepares to kill him.

The police shoot him before he can do this.

The following films chase up the rest of Damien’s short but eventful life and include: one sex scene, one King Herod-inspired ‘kill all babies born on this day cause one of ‘em is Jesus’, and even a last minute cameo by Christ himself.

Unlike most horror franchises, however, The Omen is not based on some paranormal investigation or a forgotten urban legend - the story inspiring it is kept very close to the hearts of many around the world. It’s this troubling premise which makes this film one of the most terrifying to date. Question is, just how accurate is The Omen to the actual end of days forecasted by Christians?

How accurate was The Omen to actual prophecies regarding the Antichrist?

Like most things mentioned in The Bible and other religious texts, things are typically vague or lost in translation. This means many concepts and stories have been rewritten and rethought in numerous different ways.

The Omen kinda had to connect the dots.

But there are a few defining features of Damien and his life story which are uncomfortably close to what might just be the apocalypse…

First, the Antichrist is supposed to be born as the opposite of Christ: he is not born of God and a virgin, but of Satan and a ‘whore’. Whilst The Omen appears to be slut-shaming a jackal, we do know Damien is the spawn of Satan. His animal mother (which is referenced later in the franchise when Damien is discovered to have Jackal bone marrow cells) is a reference to Jackals’ biblical presence as tricksters.

The Omen also sticks to the dominant line of thought on Damien’s career path. The Antichrist is mentioned 3 times in the New Testament and follows the end of the world, something we see in the dying moments of the final film: the Book of Revelation and other prophetic texts claim he will rule for 7 years before being defeated by Christ/Angel Gabriel’s army. He will be a tyrant, a trickster, rise to power, and (perhaps) claim he is a messiah.

The Omen is an abridged version of this. Damien is at one point a CEO and then an ambassador to the US before he sees an image of Christ when he gives out his last breath.

But here’s the thing.

Everyone has a different take on how the Antichrist will take his first steps to almighty power before being dethroned by the JC. And everyone has a different take on who it is.

Donald Trump, Hillary Clinton, the Pope (I’m pretty sure all of the popes have been accused of being the Antichrist), Prince William… Type in a celebrity name - literally any celebrity name - and the word ‘antichrist’ into Google and there will be “proof” of Kate Hudson using satanic subliminal messaging in How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days. By all accounts The Omen is just another version of how the Antichrist could rise and fall.

The Omen does include a few other suitably-satanic references: the Daggers of Megiddo don’t actually exist according to lore, but are associated with the end of the world. Megiddo is the site of the final battle between the Antichrist and Jesus Christ as mentioned in the Book of Revelation. Its Greek name was even ‘Armageddon’.

We also see throughout the franchise a satanist plot to ensure the Antichrist grows up safely and is ready to do his dark bidding. Modern theorists claim the Antichrist will arrive hand-in-hand with a satanic plot to overturn the Christian faith.

The Omen effectively charts out how the world might end. But for many people working on the film, they were experiencing hell in their own way.

What really happened on the set of The Omen?

An omen is defined as a phenomenon that predicts and hints at the future, or signals a change. The birth and rise of the Antichrist probably fits the definition as it signals the Second Coming of Christ, Judgement Day, and numerous other events anticipated by Christians across the globe. It is an omen for the end of the world.

Hell, it’s the ultimate omen. It doesn’t get more omen-ny than that.

But in some weird omen-ception, The Omen was an omen for the people producing the film. *squints in confusion*

Basics, it is now known as one of the most cursed movie sets ever. And here’s why.

Gregory Peck, the father of Damien, allegedly canceled his seat on a flight that would crash and kill everyone on board. When he did finally get on a plane and flew to England his plane was struck by lightning. The film’s writer experienced the same thing on a separate flight days after Peck’s.

The producers and some actors also nearly attended a restaurant one evening when it was destroyed in an explosion. One of these same producers, Mace Neufeld, also happened to check out early from a hotel in London which was blown up by the IRA shortly after.

The special effects designer witnessed traumatic events mirroring the movie far too closely, too: his wife was decapitated in a car crash, a similar event to one we see in the film. Even an animal trainer used for a scene from which Baboons act wildly and crazed around Damien was killed after being mauled by a tiger.

Yeah.

It’s all very ommeny.

But what are the other omens you should be looking out for?

The 7 omens you should most definitely be watching out for

#1 - Crows

All films or TV shows that feature death or war also feature crows. Their fateful cawing has historically been an omen of misfortune or death and is used for foreshadowing as obvious as the colour black. A single crow is an omen of bad luck - a murder of crows (more than five) is an omen of death or illness for either you or someone you know.

In ancient times birds were common omens and it was the type of bird which signaled different positive and negative changes. Crows in particular were believed to be messengers between the mortal world and the afterlife. Witches were also believed to use crows to cast their death spells.

They have since gained a reputation for being cunning and intelligent creatures, much like the jackal mother of Damien in The Omen.

#2 - Owls

I told you - we are convinced birds bring death.

Much like crows, owls are very deathy. Walking under a tree and hear an owl hoot? You or a family member are gon’ die. One lands on your roof? Death is a-coming.

Owls are even historically believed to herald doom with one Roman Emperor - Antonius - dying after an owl was seen perched above his bedroom door. They are considered wise creatures according to ancient civilisations, as if they know something about the future we do not.

The Welsh, on the other hand, believed they bring fertility. If an owl hoot is heard by a pregnant woman she will have an easy labour.

#3 - Doppelgangers

According to German and Irish folklore, seeing an ‘exact replica’ of you born to different parents is a sign of your death. If your family members or your friends see one, beware of impending danger.

These ‘double-goers’ are considered evil twins in folklore. If you spoke to your doppelganger, they’d try and trick you and plan evil ideas in your mind.

Breton and Cornish folklore claim they are Ankou, servants of death himself who thus personify it.

#4 - Death Knocks Thrice

Let’s set the scene: you’ve just ordered a Nandos and you hear the knock at the door. But instead of a halloumi-topped beanie burger, you open the front door to no one.

Rather than a delicious meal you will soon experience death.

Irish, Scottish, and Native American communities follow this folklore and it is referenced in many different films including The Conjuring. The Perron family hear continuous knocking which comes in threes - the Warrens, however, claim it is a demonic entity or spirit mocking the holy trinity.

#5 - Phantom funerals

Funerals normally come after the omen of death, you know, when the actual ‘death’ part has occurred. But fake funerals led by ghosts are an omen of the death of a loved one. They will take the same place and same route of the actual funeral, however.

If you do see one, however, don’t look into the casket; otherwise, it’ll be your own.

(Dun dun duuuh)

It is believed they are sent by fairies who are infamous for causing mischief. A similar phenomenon, ‘the tolaeth before the coffin’, is when one hears the coffin making process or the funeral take place.

#6 - Solar eclipses

We now have the benefit of science and astrology to tell us that sometimes it gets really dark and really cold in the middle of the day. But way back when, the sun effectively disappearing for a few moments was rather more terrifying.

Ancient civilisations believed it was a warning from pissed off gods that they were going to exact some revenge and send some impending danger or death. Most cultures even believed a folkloric beast or native animal was eating the sun. In fact, that’s why many communities would bang pots or pans together during eclipses to scare away the demon doing it.

They are still considered a mysterious sign something bad is about to go down.

#7 - Black butterflies

We end on an omen I’m probably going to incorporate into my aesthetic for 2021. A black butterfly is considered to be a symbol of misfortune and death in some cultures and a positive sign for others. It could also equate to a less lethal ‘death’ - that is the death of a relationship or a project.

It can thus be considered an omen of renewal or rebirth. And lord knows we all need that for next year.

Have you ever seen an omen?

Let me know in a comment below.

If you liked this post make sure you like, reblog, and then hit follow. I post a new article on the paranormal every Saturday and a new ghost story everyday!

*flies away with the black butterflies*

[suitcasetales]

Hallo! Hilsen fra Norge!

(Hello! Greetings from Norway!)

According to our 2021 calendar, we flew to Norway Wednesday night. Yesterday’s itinerary included a mini-cruise, a tour of a stave church and a visit to a waterfall. Today, more fjords, quaint villages and a visit to a Viking museum. How I wish I could tell you all about it. How I wish I had beautiful photos to share with you. How I wish I had interesting factoids to pass along to you. But alas, this is 2021....or is it the 16th month of 2020?

What really happened? We went took a trip 65 miles away — versus 3,872 miles — and for all of 27-hours! And believe it or not, we did things we have never done before and I am so desperate to get back to writing, I thought I would tell you about it.

Ironically, it was a pandemic driven trip. Janet is a member of a gym here in Richmond, technically Midlothian, called ACAC (Atlantic Coast Athletic Club). It began in Charlottesville during the fitness craze in the 70’s and has a few locations now in Virginia, Maryland and Pennsylvania. Founder Phil Wendel “set out to operate a health club where everyone would feel comfortable coming to exercise.” Janet first started going via a 60-days- for-$60 P.R.E.P. (physician referred exercise program) incentive and has been there ever since. She has trained with personal trainers and taken various styles of water exercise classes but her favorite is Zumba where she can dance and shake her booty.

ACAC-Charlottesville was holding a fundraiser for an affordable housing charity in C’ville whose services and assistance, as you would be well aware of in this long pandemic, continue to be in high demand. The Sprint Pavilion, normally an outdoor, covered pavilion popular for concerts, was the venue for a morning of exercise classes, Zumba, Yoga and Afterburn. Participants paid money for each class. One of ACAC-Midlothian’s instructors, Marcela was invited to lead the 8:30 Zumba class. Janet thought it sounded fun so we decided to go up Friday night and do something wild and crazy and actually stay in a hotel.

Janet found us a suite hotel above the Barracks Road shopping center which accepted dogs (for only an additional $25) and did not have a two-night weekend requirement. With Cokie being the nervous dog that she is, we knew a take-out dinner would be our best option for Friday night, too. Again, Janet did the research and suggested C’ville’s number one rated restaurant, The Ivy Inn Restaurant. We have always known of it but had never eaten there and frankly, didn’t even know where it was located. Their website encouraged us to pre-order, even for take-out, as they often sell out. Thursday night, we ordered up a feast.

I left the hospital early Friday and we drove to Charlottesville and on to the hotel. Our suite was perfect and once settled in, I went and picked up our dinner, a six minute drive away. Our dinner was delicious. We treated ourselves to three courses. Janet had a nice salad with goat cheese and dates, pork chop with sweet potato mash and collards and strawberry rhubarb crisp with ice-cream. I had sweet potato empanadas , local mountain trout with rice and green beans and sticky toffee pudding with ice-cream. And although that sounds like a lot of food, the portions were actually reasonable and we were not miserably stuffed.

Nevertheless, I had not had my exercise for the day. The clouds had cleared, the sun was out, the sky was blue and so we went for a walk. Just behind the hotel, there was a short path that led to “The Park,” on the University of Virginia campus. We circumvented the several intramural athletic fields and a softball stadium (that looked more like a former softball stadium), found a wooded area with some trails where Cokie was more at home and then walked around some of the law school buildings. It was the perfect evening walk and we managed almost two miles.

At check-in, we were given this magnet to place on our room door. The magnet must remain on the door the entire stay. (And FYI if you travel with a dog, they can be left in your suite if in a crate.)

Saturday morning, we took advantage of the hotel’s grab-n-go breakfast, grabbing it and bringing it back to our room. Cokie and I delivered Janet to the amphitheater and went off to find a place to hike while she danced. We shortly found an entrance to the 20-mile Rivanna Trail which is a “rustic urban wilderness trail” and did a quiet and protected hike alongside a creek for about 20 minutes before returning to the truck and then back downtown to say high to Marcela and to pick up Janet.

Photos from my hike short hike with Cokie. The May Apples were in full bloom!

Marcela introduced Janet to the ACAC founder and was able to thank him and tell him she would not be the person she is today without ACAC.

We returned to our hotel (where we had a very generous noon checkout), showered, did some research for the rest of the day, and checked out around 11:15. It was so worth having stayed overnight!

Like Richmond, and perhaps even more so with the Blue Ridge mountains all around, Charlottesville has many opportunities for hiking. We didn’t want to drive further west in to Shenandoah or go along the Parkway as the forecast was not good. Instead, we went to the Ivy Creek Natural Area which offered about 7 miles of hiking trails. Unfortunately, as soon as we turned in to the parking areas, everywhere, there were “no dogs” signs. What?! No dogs? Well, darn.

But, knowing Cokie as we do, we hiked anyway and left Cokie snoozing in the truck. We knew she wouldn’t care — we always have to really coax her out of the truck anyway and convince her she will like what we are doing. It was cloudy and cool and we knew she would be alright. We ended up hiking less than 3 miles. We enjoyed the hike and it was a good workout, up and down a lot with beautiful wildflowers and some nice water views of a creek. Returning to the vehicle, Cokie could have cared less that we had been gone.....or even that we were back!

We debated for a bit, trying to decide if we wanted to go to one of the many breweries, cideries or wineries in the area, but again, it just was not going to be a pretty afternoon. For those of you who live in central Virginia, you will probably be shocked to read that we have never been to Carter Mountain Orchard so off we went! Or, if you have been there, up we went! Up the mountain road arriving to the huge parking lot and beautiful views from the summit. Bold Rock Cider has a satellite location there but again, no dogs were allowed.

So again, Cokie was left in the truck while we went on a short visit. We can’t imagine how crazy it is to visit in the Fall — we know many of you do it; we have seen your photos on Facebook. But having no children and not being huge fans of apples, we have now checked it off our list, and feeling fortunate to have visited it in on dull Spring day. On the other hand, Janet did enjoy a cider and as there were no savory food choices available (and outside food was not allowed, another pet peeve of ours), we had to have apple spice doughnuts for lunch. Yes, we HAD to have them.

Along the Carter Mountain road, a hiking trail had crossed over near the beginning so next we went in pursuit of its trailhead and parking area. We drove just around the corner to the Michie Tavern complex on the Thomas Jefferson Parkway (that leads to Monticello) and parked. We managed to get Cokie out of the truck and headed in the direction we thought the trail could be accessed, only it wasn’t. We turned back and walked along the Michie Tavern historic buildings to the other end of the parking lot, which was a dead end.

Janet sought the advice of the restaurant hostess and back down the highway we went, turning in to a small parking lot at Kemper Park and nabbing one of the last two parking spots. We packed our raincoats and hats and convinced Cokie that she would be okay — Come on, Cokie, you will like it — and finally managed to get going along the Saunders-Monticello Trail.

This “trail” is really a cinder road, so wide and very easy to walk, slightly but steadily climbing. Eventually, we took a side trail to an overlook and then saw a trail jutting off from it and decided to diverge. A great decision, too, as it was a very vigorous ascent, followed by a hike along the contours before descending to a nice footbridge that returned to us to the main hiking road. And, we had that trail it all to ourselves. At the end, we read a sign where it had built in memoriam of a Monticello trail manager. It was the perfect workout after a doughnut lunch. Hike number four, in the books. And just as we made it back to the parking lot, it started raining.

We drove home in steady rain and ended our mini-vacation (and I do mean mini!) with a dine-in dinner at Lola’s Farmhouse Bistro in Manakin-Sabot. We thought we might have to just do take-out but called enroute to see if we could make a reservation. As expected, they were fully booked but ended up accommodating us when we said it was just the two of us and we could be there by 5:00. The hostess said it wouldn’t hurt if we could get there even earlier, and we did....and had the restaurant to ourselves. We both had large, tasty salads and even scored a free takeaway dessert as an apology when, due to the kitchen not being busy yet, our entrees of lobster ravioli and chicken Marsala arrived before we had even put a dent in our salads!

No, it wasn’t Norway. And it wasn’t even a multi-night getaway but a getaway, no matter where, is better than nothing these days. But finally doing some writing feels good!! And if we ever make it to Norway, we will eat hjortebakkels (Norwegian cake donuts) for lunch and I will tell you all about it.

[nicolewoo]

2 Days Too Long part 2

Pairing: Roman Reighs X Reader, (Joe Anaoi X Reader)

Warning: Smut!

Be sure to check out 2 Days Too Long part 1

2 Days Too Long part Two

I wasn't scheduled to wrestle that night, but as Joe and I laid snuggled on the couch before his match, I got a text from one of the producers, Jerry, explaining that Dana Brooke sprained her ankle, and I was needed to fill in a fatal 4 way.... in a half hour.

“Shit.  I just got inserted into a match.” I explained to Joe. “In a half hour!” I panicked.

“What?!?” Joe looked at my phone. “Crap! Ok, hit the shower, and I'll get your ring gear ready. Do you want me to tell makeup you need to be done right away?” He pulled me up from the couch.

As I dug through my bag for my body wash and towel, “Baby, thank you. That will be a big help.” I gave him a quick kiss as I passed him on the way to the shower.

Joe was gone, presumably to tell makeup, when I got out of the shower, but he'd laid my ring gear out perfectly so I could slip it on in seconds. I passed him on the way to makeup, and he told me Missy was ready for me. I hadn't had time to wash and dry my hair, so I felt a little dirty as I sat down in her chair and wondered how they were going to make me look good, but I had faith in our hair and makeup team.

As soon as I was seated, a whole crew descended on me. I hated rushing before matches. I wasn't even stretched out, and I wasn't sure I'd have a chance to. Another text message arrived. “Where are you?” It was Jerry.

“Hair and makeup.” I typed quickly, trying to hold still as my hair was flat ironed by two people and makeup was applied by two others. A few minutes later, Jerry popped around the corner.

“Sorry to do this to you.” He said kindly. “We know you're going to need time to warm up, so we are having you come out last. You'll be wrestling Charlotte, Bayle and Natalia.” My jaw dropped. In my hurry to get ready, I hadn't even considered WHO I was wrestling, and I was crushed when he reminded me. I certainly wasn't a big star. In fact, I wasn't ready to go up against any of them.

“Are you SURE?” I asked Jerry. “I'm not ready to face any of them.” I pleaded. “You don't have someone who is more over than me?”

Jerry just smiled. “You're ready. I know it doesn't seem like it, but we were about to push you anyway. This is just going to move our plans up.”

“You're ready.” The low voice came out of nowhere, but I knew that voice. Joe came from behind me and squeezed my hand.

“But I...” I started when Missy got right in my face to apply eye liner.

“You're ready girl,” she said comfortingly.

“All three wrestlers will be taking it easy on you in the beginning of the match, because they know you're not prepared.” Jerry said which comforted me a bit until he added, “But that won't last long. You have a huge opportunity here, Y/N. If you do well, it's going to do a lot for your career.”

I rolled my eyes, “No pressure?”

Jerry chuckled, but Joe was the one who answered. “Babe, you've got this. You're more than ready.” He looked me straight in the eyes as he said it. “You've got to trust us.” He assured. I did trust him, but I also figured he was biased.

“Ok, well, everyone has to get out of here and let us work or she really won't have time to warm up.” Missy said. Joe kissed my hand and left. Jerry gave me a few notes before he left, and I let the crew do their magic.

In 10 minutes, Missy turned me to the mirror, and I breathed a sigh of relief. “No matter how bad I am, at least I'll look great. Thank you guys.” I gave quick hugs before heading to the hallway outside the gorilla to start warming up.  Joe met me there a few minutes later.

“Ready, baby?” He asked

I continued warming up. “I guess. I don't really have a choice.”

Joe grabbed some padded gloves and held his hands up for me to punch. “You've got this. You're ready. That's why they've been having you do more press and more matches. They really were going to push you soon. I figured that out a couple of weeks ago.” He smiled as I laid a big punch into his left glove.

I stopped immediately. “Really?”

“Yeah babe. I was just going to let them tell you.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. He pressed his forehead agaist mine, “This is your big shot. All you have to do give it your best.”

I got pinned. I wasn't surprised, nor was I upset, but of course I was the one who got pinned. I was really proud of how I did though. I even pulled off a couple new moves Joe had shown me and pinned Bayle once. When I walked into the gorilla, I expected to see Joe.... after all, his match was next. I didn't expect to see the gorilla full of all wrestlers waiting to congratulate all of us on such a great match.

Paul took off his headphones and headed toward me as soon as I came through the curtain. Joe reached me a second before Paul and pressed a sweet kiss on my temple. “Great showing!” Paul started. “Really great showing. I knew you were ready. How did it feel?” His smile was infectious.

“It felt great. I really felt like I gave it my all.” I beamed as I leaned my head against Joe's shoulder.

“Joe, you're up next.” Paul said, and Joe kissed me before leaving. “Well, kid, you did it,” Paul said excitedly. “You held your own against 3 of the top performers in the company. Are you ready to be over?” He placed his hands on my arms and looked right in my eyes.

No... Of course I wasn't ready, but Paul looked down at me with complete trust and confidence. It made me believe in myself, “Yes, sir,” I squeaked out. “Whatever the company needs, sir.” He just chuckled and hugged me.

“It starts now.” He smiled as he took his place at the controls. “Now, go shower. I'll see you after this match.” He teased.

We had a blessedly short drive that night. Just an hour, which was great. I was positively hyper after my match. Sitting in a car was NOT what I wanted to do. We took some time to pick up some food along the way, which occupied part of the drive. The rest of the drive was filled with phone calls and texts. Everyone was congratulating me.

“You're kinda quiet tonight,” Joe mused.

I took a deep breath. “I feel like it's not real. I never thought I was going to get pushed. I'm not that good.”

He reached over to grab my hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss. “I've been telling you all along that you're fantastic.” He smiled over at me.

“I just don't see it,” I said as I closed my eyes and rested my head against the headrest. “Plus, I think you're a little biased.”

He chuckled a bit, “Baby, no. You're doing a fantastic job!” He put his hand on my thigh, lightly stroking the top of my leg. “You think I'd let a bad wrestler in my yard?” He teased.

“Oh yeah.” I joked. “YOU'RE yard. I think it's more Vince's yard.” I patted his hand.

When we got to our hotel room, I was surprised to find two dozen roses waiting for me. “Joe,” I gasped in surprise. “You're too good to me.” I leaned up to kiss him.

“Well, only one of these is from me.” He explained.

I went to look at the cards. The first dozen was from Joe with a card that said, I'm so proud of you, baby girl. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and kissed my temple as I read the note.  The second dozen was from my trainer Fit Finlay. You did it! Great job! How's the weather at the top? While I appreciated the roses from Joe, there was something really special about Finlay taking the time to send me flowers. He'd been one of my first coaches, and when I got to developmental, he took me under his wing, saying he saw great potential in me.

“How are you feeling?” Joe asked as he kissed my temple again.

I thought for a second, “I can't believe it's real.” I just shook my head in disbelief.

Joe laughed, “I felt the same way when I got pushed.” He hugged me tighter, “You've worked hard, and earned a place at the top. You deserve this.”  I didn't believe it, but it was hard to deny it when I had an outpouring like this. “Think of it.... you and I both at the top of the company. The big dog and his queen.” He turned me to face him.

I just laughed. “Ok, yeah, I'm getting pushed, but there's a lot of steps between me and the top.” I circled my arms around his neck.

“You'll get there.” His face changed as he looked at me. He kissed me deeply then trailed kisses down to my neck. “Let's celebrate.” He said, his lips against my pulse point. His hand wandered down to my ass, grabbing a handful and squeezing me closer to him. I moaned as I felt his dick press against my stomach. I brushed my hand over his crotch, finding the outline of his hard cock and running my fingers over it.

Without warning, I dropped to my knees and undid his button and zipper. He wrapped a hand under my arm trying to pull me up. “Not tonight baby. Tonight YOU get to relax and enjoy me pleasing you.

I shot him a sly look. “Yeah... It's MY night. I get to do whatever I want, and I want your cock in my mouth.” He moaned as he helped me remove his pants and sat on the corner of the bed. He moaned again as I kitten licked the head of his cock. I stroked the shaft slowly, teasing his head, wrapping my lips around it and licking the pre-cum off it.

Instinct-fully, his hand went to the back of my head, curling his fingers through my hair and grabbed a handful. It wasn't painful, but when he pushed my head down on his cock, I couldn't pull back up. I choked on his length, and saw him realize what he was doing. “You need to learn some patience,” I teased him by chiding him over the same thing he always chided me about. He laughed loud as he looked down at me.

“Sounds familiar,” He said, reaching for my waist and trying to drag me up to the bed. I simply shook my head no as I took him in my mouth again. He moaned again. “You're so fucking good at this.” He put his hand in my hair again, but didn't push me down this time. He brushed his fingers through my hair and watched as I swallowed his cock over and over and stroked his balls. “So.... Fucking.... good.” He groaned out. I could feel his balls tightening and felt it spread through his body. He was going to cum soon if I didn't stop. I slowed down, feeling every inch of him as I buried his dick in my mouth one more time before removing it and licking along the underside from his balls to his head. “Oh fuck.”

When he tried again to pull me up, I let him, leaving a trail of kisses up his torso as I went. Once we were face to face, he kissed me softly, slipping his tongue in my mouth before flipping me onto my back and kissing his way down me. When he reached my hood, he looked up into my eyes. “My turn,” was all he said before running his tongue from my taint to my clit, flicking the sensitive bud a few times. I cried out at the feel. “My queen.” He licked the path again. “My sweet, fucking queen.” He wrapped his arms around my legs, using one hand to hold my hips down as he circled my clit with a finger from his other hand. I moaned low and long. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” I tried to stop talking, but instead “Yes. Yes. Yes,” came pouring out of my mouth as he pushed his tongue inside me. I tried to talk, but only managed to groan in pleasure. Just as I neared my orgasm, he switched so his fingers were inside me, and his tongue toyed with my clit. I became a mess, lost in the pleasure he was giving me.

His voice brought me back to reality, “Breathe for me baby girl. Don't force your orgasm... let it happen.” His fingers continued to pump in and out of me, hitting my g-spot every time. “Relax. Just let it happen.” When he felt my body relax, he resumed the slow torture of my body, his lips wrapping around my clit as he sucked softly. Slowly, gently, a wave of warm white energy ran through my body, overtaking everything. After a minute or so, I realized Joe had climbed his way up my body and was stroking my hair with his right hand as left fingers slid in and out of my cunt, slowly bringing me down from my orgasm. “Good girl.” He kissed me gently. “That's my queen.”  

Once he was certain the orgasm was over, he removed his fingers and slid his hard cock into me. He filled me completely, and it felt so good I cried out. “You ok?” he asked as he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

I tried to answer him, but only managed a moan. He chuckled quietly. “Good.” I expected some slow, gentle sex, but instead he thrust inside me hard and fast for a few minutes. The pleasure was overwhelming, from the feel of him filling me to the grunts that escaped him to his fingers twisting my nipples to the point of pain. I felt as if I was on the verge of cumming again. I tried to force a second orgasm to relieve the pressure, but my body wouldn't comply. I was left on the verge as he pulled out of me, grabbed my waist and flipped me onto my hands and knees. “Keep breathing,” he reminded me as he slid his dick inside me.

I cried out, “So fucking..... deep. I can't....” I couldn't finish. My second orgasm washed over me, and Joe had to wrap his arm around me to keep me from falling into the comforter. He eased up his thrusts a little.

“You ok, baby girl?” he grunted to me. My mouth opened, and noises came out, but I had no control over them. “Answer me baby.” I just nodded yes. “Are you ready for more?” he asked.

More? There was more? What more could there be? I'd already had 2 of the most amazing orgasms of my life, and he was offering me more? I nodded yes, and he stopped holding back. He fucked me fast and hard, his hands on my hips, his fingers grabbing my hips so tight, I knew they would bruise.

A third orgasm swept over me, and I cried out. He leaned over my back, pulled my hair back and grabbed it with his left hand, pulling hard as he fucked me. “Oh Fuck! That's...” This time he was the one having troubles talking, and a second later, he roared as he came. “Fuuuucccckkk,” he said as he filled me with his cum.

He pulled out of me quickly, leaving our combined juices to leak down my leg. He pulled me down onto his chest, and pressed his lips to my forehead in one long kiss. I relaxed into his arms, running my fingers over his chest as I did.

We didn't say anything for a few minutes. We laid there stroking, petting, kissing and recovering. “Is that how champions fuck?” I teased him, and he laughed out loud.

“Yeah, baby girl. That's how champions fuck, and you're definitely ready to be a champion.”  

[ladymelissaduthe]

challenge #3.5

aka the animal shelter (jackson #4)

a/n: i must say-- writing has been tough for me the past few weeks what with school but I bring yall this fic before stuff goes down at the ball. enjoy this fic yall, IT’S ADORABLE.  @jackson-graham ;) Bri you know ily, thank you for this RP AS ALWAYS. Doc link is in the title. ENJOY, I also have some a/ns in the notes because Missy is too dumb a bitch to notice certain things and I can’t help but mention them . this is also my longest fic so far LMAO (9346 words)

An independent community engagement proposal.

Oh gosh, it was exciting to really have the chance to try and make a difference. Try to do something big and grand to really help people. It was a way for me to show everyone that maybe I didn’t constantly have weddings and parties on the brain. If I was somehow still here in the palace, even if my disastrous first date with Arin, I guess I needed to show everyone that I had more to offer than just being Missy the Wedding Planner. Something a little more princess material, yesiree!

Still, finding a cause close to my heart was more difficult than I actually planned. ­

I mean… it was difficult… to really figure out a struggle to help with.

One day, it just struck me though, while I was talking to my Grammy on the phone. Reminiscing about the long days we spent together at the Oncology center in Orleans. For all my years, maybe the worst struggle I’ve seen up so close to was having to go see my Grammy go through the Big C.

A part of me wanted to think of a way to help local oncology centers, and I had to think for a couple of good days until I realized something while sitting in the greenhouse. Somehow I was reminded of a previous conversation here.

This is going to sound weird but, what’s working in an animal shelter like?

It’s hard. Lots of animals, easy to love, but not easy to see what’s been done to them. Or witness how plenty of them are looked over for other animals.

A program that helped train shelter animals to be therapy animals for public spaces.

It was perfect, and I got to work with it as soon as I got back to my room.

Maybe I was a little way over my head initially, but after a couple of days, I was able to Joogle and contact who I needed to call, which is something not entirely new to me.

It was like calling a bunch of vendors for a party, except it wasn’t vendors and the party was a community project that wasn’t really a party.

The beneficiary partners of the project were going to be the East Angeles Oncology Center and one of the city’s main social centers. Convincing them was initially tough if it weren’t for the fact that I mentioned that I was a Selected. Talking about the project and how they could benefit from it was pretty easy after that.

The possible animal trainers were a quick reference thanks to a previous client of mine apparently being on its board of directors. No wonder their dog was their ring bearer.

 I needed a couple of them to help make a course that would allow the animals,

I just needed an animal shelter partner. Luckily, I was just waiting for another chance to see the right person to help me with that.

----------

“Jackson! Oh my gosh!” I wave over and try to run over to where he is.

It was a couple days of waiting, sometimes seeing an empty hallway and hoping I would see his face when I would turn a corner. I really just spent most of that time preparing my proposal, writing things down while hoping to get a chance to talk to him and ask for his help. Most days to no success. Today, however, was my lucky day.

Jackson seems to turn when he hears me call his name, stopping in his tracks with a wave back at me. I was careful not to trip in my heels as I ran over to him down the hall.

“Hi Missy.” He greets with a signature warm smile.

I catch up to him, though needing a moment to catch my breath. I raise up my hand for a quick moment. Ooo wait give me a sec to breathe. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Okay, good.

“I was hoping to see you again around here.” I push some of my hair behind, hoping it would let me catch the air better. “How are you?”

“Not too busy.” His brows raise as he eyes my stance. “You okay?” he gestures to my breathing.

“Oh yeah, I’ve just been… running around doing some errands.” I laugh it off, straightening myself.

Jackson was the person I needed to onboard if I really wanted my independent community engagement proposal to be real. Convince him, and it could all fall into place.

“So I was thinking, um... I’m working on this project. I mean— all the girls are working on individual projects for... community engagement. AND! I— I was thinking of... asking for your help on this one.”

Mayhaps explaining it all in one go was a poor choice. Nonetheless, all Jackson does is blink, his smile not vanishing.

“I’m happy to help, Missy. What’s up?”

I suck in a breath. Mayhaps asking this huge favor was a little too much.

Hmm... nah.

“I was hoping that I could ask you to take me to the animal shelter, the one you’ve told me before.” I look to him, trying to contain my excitement. This was the last piece of the huge puzzle.

Jackson looks pleasantly surprised. “You want to use the animal shelter for your project? Really?”

“I mean, why not use the shelter for my project? It could be the model for what I want to propose.” I feel my smile soften at that thought. I really wanted this to happen. “It could give the critters a second life and purpose beyond just waiting for someone to adopt them.”

That was something I definitely remembered from my last conversation with Jackson. Broke my heart to think about that again. Maybe that’s why I was so determined to get Jackson’s shelter to be the partner for my project rather than any other shelter I could call up in Angeles.

“Yeah. It really could.” His smile softens. After a beat, he shakes his head and looks down. Odd. “Um, are you allowed to leave the palace?” He looks up once more to me.

“Well—” I trail off, my own eyes falling to the ground. “I don’t think it would hurt if I was gone for one afternoon.”

As my Grammy always said, it’s easier to ask for forgiveness than to ask permission.

I tuck my hair behind my ears. Asking for favors was a little more difficult than both of those.

“What do you say Mister Jackson Graham?”

((ALRIGHT A/N: LEAVING HOW BRI PHRASED THE REPLY BECAUSE MISSY CAN’T PICK THIS UP BUT…. *CRIES* I WISH SHE DID

*AH HER SAYING HIS NAME THAT WAY. how could he not agree? finds himself nodding* Yes, of... of course))

Jackson seems to nod, “Yes, of… of course.”

I feel my smile grow at his agreement. It’s all falling into place! It just wasn’t going to be some things I wrote on paper!

“Thank you thank you thank you!” I step a closer to Jackson and—wait.

Okay.

Mayhaps… I shouldn’t give him a hug.  

I quickly tuck my hands behind my back, hoping that I didn’t look as awkward as I already felt. Um, say something Melissa.  

“You have no idea how much this means to me. I promise it’ll be worth your time.”

From the look on his face, he seems to know where I was initially going with my hands, but thankfully, he doesn’t seem to bring it up. All he does is chuckle.

“You don’t have to promise. I know it will be.” He then makes a gesture to a certain direction for us to start walking.

Oh, I didn’t think we were gonna go ASAP… but, the idea of getting to go to the shelter right away was something I wasn’t opposed to.

“Thank you so much again.” I nod a couple of times, smiling as we begin walking. I guess Jackson was wondering why I wanted to go. I should explain myself, or at least try.

“I just... I just want to know, understand, what it’s like.” I start off. Trying to find the right words to put it. Looking back at my life in Orleans, it felt like living in a nice little bubble where everyone seemed to protect me. Mama especially since she never wanted me to even see the hardship she faced when she was still a Six. “It seems easy to just write about a place on paper but, I feel like I should personally know what it’s really like in shelters. You know?”

A part of me knew that I never got to see a part of the world before, but being in the Selection. All those princess lessons. It all really could make a girl wonder about… well the world out there and the not-so pretty fairytale type of situations.

“I think that can apply to most issues like these.” Jackson’s head bobs slightly. “But I do understand. I’m glad you... you want to witness it all.”

I nod again a couple of times, “It’s a place to start, seeing things as they are currently helps you understand what they should be or could be in the future.” I eye him, wanting to tease him. “Lucky for me, I had the right person in mind to help me with that.”

Jackson laughs bashfully, looking down at his feet while we still walked. “Right. I’m just glad I can help.” He smiles in my direction before we take a couple of more steps and opens a nearby door, gesturing for me to go in first. Warms my heart to see that chivalry wasn’t dead, at least not with Jackson.

“Are you sure, it’s not too much trouble on your part? For all I know, you’ve got some important work today at the shelter.” I ask while stepping through the door, waiting for him to step through before we start walking down a narrower and less fancy-looking hallway.

“I have a light load today. And they’re always looking for new people to show around, they think it’s fun.” He sounds amused saying this.

“I hope they wouldn’t mind showing me around,” I say, my eyes scanning the hallway. I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of the palace. It all looked so ordinary compared to where we were a couple of seconds ago. It still matched some of the accents of the hallway we came from, but it looked more normal, like a nice hotel hallway. I turn my attention back to Jackson. “How long have you been working there again?”

“Four years. Started working after I graduated from high school.” Jackson answers me right before we reach the end of the hallway and Jackson opens another door for us, one that lead directly to what seemed to be the garage.

“Guess you’ve become quite the regular there, huh?” I smile to him as I let him guide me, turning to the garage. Wow.  

It was like seeing the parking lot of some debutante’s 18th  birthday and all her crazy rich relatives were attending. Was that an Audi I saw? Plenty of nice cars lined up, a motorcycle at the end of the line. It was funny how the luxury of living in the palace still amazed me.

“I lucked out in that area. They’re good people too. You’ll like them.” Jackson leads me to where I assume he parked his car. I smile at the sight of him opening the passenger’s door of an ordinary-looking silver sedan. It reminded me of the one we had back home.

“The real question is: will they like me?” I joke before a grateful smile for his gesture, going inside—feeling my head bump against the frame in process. I let out an ow, before letting myself mumble that I was okay.

“Oo.” I see him grimacing, “Sorry, it’s a bit low. Sure you’re alright.”

“Yeah, totally fine.” I give him a quick thumbs up from the inside of his car, laughing to myself at how silly I am. “I’m just prone to accidentally hitting my head in cars.”

“I’ve been prone to much worse.” He flashes a crooked smile as he shuts my door. I laugh as I watch him head to the driver’s side, climb in and buckle up in a steady pace, setting his phone in the cup holder. I remember to buckle up too.

He starts his car, then holds out a cable out to me, “Do you… want to play your music?”

I look at the AUX cord he’s offering, and I offer him a polite smile.

“You don’t want to know the kind of music I like listening to.” I curl my lips in, trying to suppress the awkward smile creeping up my face.

Jackson raises both of his brows, with a chuckle. “You seem awfully sure about that.”

“You’re the first person to offer me the A-U-X cord in the longest time.” I shake my head, though maintaining a smile. “I think that says a lot already.”

Means my friends hate my taste in music, or are just really tired of hearing Show Tunes.

He shakes the cable a bit. With a small smile he says, “The offer is still out there for a few more seconds.”

His friendly smile was enough to convince me. I suppose I can’t quite say no to a friendly gesture like that, especially with someone already doing me a favor.

I let out a light laugh as I take the cord from him and slip my phone out of my dress’ pockets. “Please don’t make fun of me for this.” I give him a word of caution as I hook it up and tap over to my Dotify, picking the first song off of my morning playlist.

I glance up to Jackson, hoping he wasn’t going to groan at my choice.

RENT – RENT Live Cast. 

https://open.spotify.com/track/5ZFx5WIlDGbx2rJ2XZ9dQa?si=ChVHl9ljRUGj-Mi2-In8yw (yes the one Jordan Fisher was in)

The music suddenly fills the car with the loud percussion and electrifying guitar rifts of the show’s opening number, and I look over to Jackson gauging his expression while he starts reversing out of the garage and onto a driveway that probably would lead us out of the palace.

His smile grows the music plays, and I’m slightly relieved that he doesn’t seem to hate what I picked. Relieved enough to let myself take in the view of the coast to our right. I never noticed that the road followed the coastline when I first came here.

There was so much blue, as far as the eye could see. It was a view you could see from the terrace of my room, but seeing it move pass you while you were in a car… it was definitely something else on its own.

“This is Rent, right?” Jackson’s voice steals my attention back, and I find myself nodding enthusiastically.

“Yes! It’s,” my eyes glance down to my phone on my lap, “one of my favorite musicals.”

Probably my third favorite musical, right before Dear Evan Hansen and Waitress.

“I’m a Mamma Mia fan myself.” He half jokes in my direction, though his driving still impeccably smooth.

“Really? You strike me as more of a Hamilton fan.” I return the joke with a teasing look his direction, letting myself lean back and watch us drive more into a small winded hilly area.  

((get it,,, cause Jordan Fisher played Philipp/Laurens in Hamilton BJSNKD))

“Hamilton’s definitely  a close second.” His smile seems to widen at that, and I notice the car finally reaching a highway. That was fast. The car turns right and I find our car starting to merge with a dozen other cars on the highway. “But musicals are more my second choice of music anyhow.”

I turn to him curiously at that, “So what /is/ your first choice in music, Mister Graham?”

Another RENT song is starting to play, and I turn the volume down while we talk, wanting to hear him clearly.  

“More singer/songwriter material. Or the classics. Songs I can learn to play myself.” He glances to me, most of his attention on the road while our car started to merge with more traffic on the freeway.

“Oh,” I reply, not having quite pegged Jackson to be a musician too. A veterinarian/ animal shelter volunteer, and now: a musician. He was full of surprises, huh.“What instruments do you play?”

Jackson’s eyes still stay trained on the road. “Piano and guitar. My mother was a musician and I was the kid that managed to get it to stick.” He says, a half smile on his face.

I keep my head still turned his way, finding myself smiling at his reply. “Did she teach you how to play?”

He nods twice. “In the beginning yes. I progressed by myself throughout the years.” He answers before glancing over to me, “Do you play any instruments?”

I wish.

“Nope, I didn’t have anyone to teach me back in Orleans. No one in my family was interested enough in music for me to pick it up…” I answer, shaking my head with a light laugh. Just one of those things I wished I had picked up when I was younger, instead I had dance classes and competitions, kid pageants, and the occasional tag-along to a wedding.

Still, music was something that I wish I could have picked up if I had someone to teach me since the neighborhood I grew up was filled with little house parties where people would invite each other to listen to a mini concert. I only had a wedding planner, a former seamstress turned wedding planner, and a baker at home with me in the family.  

I laugh at that idea before adding a question for Jackson.

“So is your dad a veterinarian?” It would make sense if Jackson picked up his love of music from his mom and his love for animals from his dad.

“Lawyer, actually. We all went down different routes.” He answers, an amused lilt in his voice. So that makes his mom a musician, his dad a lawyer, his sister was an interior designer if I remember correctly, and Jackson: an aspiring veterinarian. Those were all very different routes indeed.

“Guess catching up with each other during family dinners would never be dull what with everyone doing their own thing.” I remark, imagining what conversations they’d have—definitely different from my own family’s, where Grammy, Mama, and I would be talking about the same things happening at DDW HQ. Not much variety, really.

“Absolutely never.” A short laugh escapes him, “Especially when I used to bring in little animals and hide them in my room as a kid.”

I cover my mouth, trying to stop myself from laughing too much at that mental image.

“Are you serious?” A snicker escapes me, feeling only more laughter bubble up from my stomach to my chest. “You’d try to hide little animals?”

He seems bashful about that admission, “It didn’t work out very well. Animals make noise and I didn’t know how to hide them without being noticed.”

“I’m still trying to imagine it,” A fit of laughter takes over me as I sit up straight in my seat and close my eyes to picture it even more clearly.

The mental image of a younger, much smaller version of Jackson hiding a baby bird in his jacket pops into my head. The bird making way too much noise as he creeps up the stairs, Jackson trying to go unnoticed. 

“You… probably trying to hide a little critter in your jacket.” I say with my eyes still closed, feeling myself smile at that image. I let out another laugh before opening my eyes to catch Jackson looking over to me. “It’s a no brainer you eventually grew up to become a vet.”

Jackson’s attention seems to linger in my direction half a second longer than he should take his eyes off the road before he turns forward again. I should probably stop trying to distract him from driving.

“I ruined plenty of clothes that way, actually.”

“A minor trade off.” I tuck some of my hair behind my ears, having been messed up while I was laughing probably too hard a while ago. “As long as you don’t hide animals in your jacket anymore.” I eye him suspiciously, obviously just joking.

His smile seems to grow, “Can’t show you all my tricks off the bat, now can I?”

“Guess I’ll have to keep an eye out for you in a jacket from now on.” I maintain my suspicious gaze over to him, trying to stay serious for a few seconds… and failing at that when another bubble of snickers escapes me.

“Not afraid of spiders are you?” He pats his pocket, sounding like he was just teasing.

But I could never really be sure if he was…

“You’re not serious…” I look over to his pocket for a second, before my hands instinctively go up and I move away to the edge of my seat close to the window.

Jackson laughs before putting his hand back on the wheel. “No, sorry, bad joke. I’m spider free for now.”

“Okay, great.” I relax before falling back against my seat and let myself laugh it off. “The last time I saw a spider, I shrieked.”

“Fairly standard reaction.” He sounds amused, “Although as a veterinarian, I have to care for and love all creatures.”

“Ehhhh, the shrieking was partially because of the location too.” I chuckle thinking back, shifting to make myself more comfortable in my seat. “Do veterinarians have one of those ‘do no harm’ creeds like doctors do?”

He hums, “You know I think they do. Seems like a necessary standard.”

It does sound like one.

“Where were you that a location made you shriek more than a spider?”

“You’re not gonna believe it but I…” A flashback of me accidentally falling through a bookcase’s earlier during the Selection. Remembering it all, it seemed more funny than scary, so funny that a laugh of disbelief escapes me. “I fell through a secret hallway back in the palace and I didn’t know how to get out.”

Jackson seems bewildered to hear this, “How’d you manage to do that?”

“Alright so,” I toss some of my hair back and get ready to share the experience.  

“I chose this one,” I hold a finger up, wanting to tell this story as animatedly as I can right now, “book on embroidery and I'm reaching for it and leaning against the shelf because it was pretty high up. Then, suddenly the shelf I was leaning against moved and I fell through it into this dark and dusty hallway, obviously home to a couple of spiders and a colony of dust bunnies.”  

A short laugh comes from Jackson. “Those secret passageways will really throw you for a loop if you’re not careful. You survived intact, I’m assuming?”

 “Intact but in a great need of a shower and change of outfit.” I laugh it off, jokingly squirming at the memory of the gross feeling of all that dust sticking onto me. “Arin was the one… who,” I pause, sometimes talking about Arin was more difficult than initially talking to him. “…got me out of there.”

The smile on Jackson’s face seems to falter after I bring up Arin. “Ah. That was… lucky then.” He pauses for a considerable time before asking, “How’ve you been? After everything.”

I try to find the right words to say.

I clear my throat once I think I’ve figured what was the right thing to say.

“Ah, well, definitely less crying.” My left hand seems to fidget with my ring on my right. “We went out on another…date…? I mean if that’s what you can really call it.” I try to laugh.

“Oh? How did that go?” Jackson’s voice sounds hopeful.

It was sort of an apology date in a way, about the last time. But doing things with Arin, well- they didn’t really feel like dates. Maybe I just… need time to get to know him better.

“Oh…” I look to him, hoping that none of my overthinking about it would show up on my face. “He taught me how to swim. I never really knew how to but I guess I can float and tread water like a normal person now.”

It was very kind of Arin to try and help me with that. Safety first.

“Despite anything else, I think you could call that a personal win.”

“I think so too. Anything next to normal is a win compared to last time.” I try to laugh again, this time wishing it would help with my nerves. A thought crosses my mind. The last time Jackson and I saw each other in person, I was crying over my disastrous first date with Arin. Did I ever thank Jackson for being there? Hmmm… I should probably thank him again just in case.

“Listen… thank you again for that night. I know I’ve thanked you before but—” I turn to smile in his direction, truly grateful for having him there. “it meant the world to have someone to talk to.”

Jackson seems to sit up a tad straighter, his attention going from the road to me. He nods once, “I um—well, I offer that as long as you’d like. Friendship I mean.”

He turns his attention forward to the road again, a small smile on his face.

The words Jackson and friendship seems to just make sense. I mean, being friends with the girls was amazing—especially with having girls like Itzel to talk to, but the idea of being friends with someone outside of the Selection was more than easy to agree to.

“Having a friend around is something I’d like very much.”  I smile over to him. “You’re the nicest person I’ve met since I got here.”

It was usually very rare to find the sort of genuine kindness Jackson had these days.

Jackson’s expression seems to become more bashful, “I’ve seen what this royal life can be like when you meet new people. I just… I’m glad I can provide some more normalcy for you.”

“Getting thrown into the royal life can really change a part of you.” A small laugh of agreement escapes me. “It’s good… to have people around to keep your feet on the ground. Maybe that’s why y’all seem to be a close bunch… I mean… your family and Uh… the Schreaves.”

“I don’t know.” Jackson seems to focus more on the road, switching lanes as I see an exit close by. “By now the familiarity has sort of blurred any kind of jarring reality checks.” he chuckles softly.

“I guess the jarring reality check can come along whenever you get out of the palace.” I laugh, looking out to my window. “This still looks so… different compared to what I’ve been seeing for the past two months.”

It was nice to see the city like this instead of just seeing the skyline from the palace rooftop. Angeles was so different compared to Orleans. Even their residential areas looked different compared to what I usually saw back home.

“Compared to the glittering walls and dresses?” Jackson asks in a teasing way.

“Definitely different. I can do away with the glittering walls.” I think, not being too in love with the idea with living in a place as big as the palace. “You can get so scared to walk around in those hallways since every single decoration looks like they’ll cause you an arm and a leg if you break ‘em. But the dresses?” I hum, smoothing the skirt of my yellow mini dress. “I can get use to this.

Not gonna lie, I loved my dresses in the palace the most among the Selected perks.

“They’re quite pretty.” Jackson says so as our car exits off the freeway. I feel myself smile at that comment, not sure why my face feels warm every time I hear something along the lines of that.  

Jackson stops at a red light, waiting if he can make a turn and doing so when the light turns green. I haven’t really noticed it but my playlist was playing another song from a musical, You Will Be Found from Dear Evan Hansen, the song softly playing in the background while we drive. I hum along with it as we drive. In the area that we are going through, it looks like a shopping center was nearby. It was bigger than most malls I’ve usually frequented in Orleans.

Oh gosh, I missed going to malls.

Unfortunately, Jackson drives past it, telling me that it’s not much longer until we reach the shelter.

Maybe another time.

“Anything I should know about the shelter before we get there?” I ask, looking over to him.

A knowing smile tugs at his lips, “I hope you won’t mind getting fur all over that dress.”

I chuckle at his advice, scrunching up my nose with a light nah.

We stop at a nearby intersection, and Jackson makes a right where the shops grow further and further apart the more we went down the road. In fact, there were more trees now. Before I really knew it, Jackson makes a left into a parking lot. Taking in the shelter from my window. It was quite big actually, bigger than I imagined it initially. A light blue sign with a paw print with the name:

Angeles Friends for Life Animal Rescue.

I push my hair out of my face when the car comes to a stop at a spot close to the front of the shelter. My hand finds the release button of my seat belt as I say, “Looks like you guys have a fine operation out here.”

A fine operation seemed like an understatement.

He hums pleasantly at that, “We’re lucky to have wonderful management.”

Jackson looks at me, “Ready to meet everyone?”

I unplug my phone from the AUX cord and hold it in my left hand, before looking back to Jackson with a smile.

“I’m always ready.”

Jackson seems like the sound of that answer, unbuckling himself from his seatbelt. E nods and gets out of the car and waits for me to follow. Once I’m at his side, he leads the way into the building’s main entrance into a lobby area. It was as welcoming as the shelter did look on the outside. There was a blue theme going around the room, matching the sign outside. On the walls of the lobby were pictures of what I assumed to be of owners with pets who I assume were adopted from this shelter. My eyes go back and forth between that wall and the huge fish tank behind to be what seemed to be the front desk.

As Jackson leads me to it, a head pops up from below the desk, one belonging to a young man our age. I almost jump at that.

His dark hair looked like it needed a comb.

He smirks at Jackson, then his eyes shift to me, his expression shifting into a beaming smile.  He stands, looking tall, lean, and well— handsome, but not quite my type.

“Jackson, my wonderful friend, now who would this be?”

My eyes go to look at Jackson, letting him reply first and I’m careful to not talk over them.

Jackson’s brows raise at that question. “Wonderful friend. Milking it, aren’t you?”

The young man clear his throat, “Come on now, I’d hate to be rude to your friend here. She’s—” he blinks and slowly points a finger between Jackson and I. “How.. what?”

Oh he must have…. Right.  

I was kind of famous now, famous by association, I suppose.

The conversation seems to go silent, so I take it as my opportunity to segue and step into the conversation. I’m mindful to make my tone friendly, trying to make sure that this isn’t awkward in the very least.

“Hi there! I’m Missy Duthé.” I extend my right hand out to him over the desk. “I’m interested in workin’ with the shelter for a certain project!”

He shakes my hand, his face still looking dazed. “Missy. It’s… wow. Great to meet you.” His smile seems kinder, but still looking slightly stunned. “I’m Merrick.”

“It’s my pleasure to make your acquaintance Merrick.” I maintain my smile before taking my hand back.

“I’m going to give her a full tour. Is Julianna swamped today?” Jackson asks, and my brows raise at that.

“No no, slow afternoon. There’s a couple looking at the dogs but other than that the place is yours.” Merrick says, his eyes shifting to me, still looking surprised.

I still don’t quite understand the weird fame that being Selected afforded me, but what I do know is that people shouldn’t really be treating me any differently. I try my best to exude a calm energy to put Merrick at ease that I was normal as any Illéan girl could be.

“I was just telling Jackson how you guys have such a fine operation over here.”

“That’s kind of you.” Merrick chuckles. “It’s been years in the making. Family business.”

Jackson gestures to Merrick, “Julianna’s his mom.”

So Miss Julianna, Merrick’s mom, must be the head. I take note of that. I also take note that the shelter is actually a family business, adds to its charm in fact.

“The one and very scary only.” Merrick gives a small glance to the next door, probably scared that Julianna was going to come out.

A chuckle escapes Jackson, “Careful or I might tell her you said that.”

I make sure to nod along their conversation, “So… I suppose Miss Julianna’s the one I’m supposed to talk to about my project?”

“Her or Jackson. He knows how to run the place better than I do and I grew up here.”

Her or Jackson. I smirk over to Jackson at that.

Jackson smiles at the ground before looking to me. “Yes, she is. She can answer anything I can’t.”

I push some of my hair back, still keeping my attention on Jackson. “Well, I didn’t know what my friend was so influential over here.”

“It’s the animals. They outvoted me.” Merrick says, I catch him half-smirking over to us.

Jackson rolls his eyes and mumbles. “Sure, alright.” He clears his throat before turning to me, “We can head back now.”

“I’m sure we can trust the critters’ judgment.” I giggle before nodding to Jackson, feeling my smile grow. “Where to Mister Jackson Graham?”

“We can start with the cat room, then work our way around the building.” Jackson says, and I follow him as he leads the way, clasping my hands in front of me.

“See you later.” He calls back to Merrick.

I hear a beep from the door and see Merrick wave over to us. “Have fun!”

“Nice meetin’ you!” I say turning to Merrick’s direction for a quick second, then turning my full attention to Jackson. “How many rooms are we talkin’ about?”

“We have four.” Jackson’s voice seems to almost be accompanied by the sounds of the barks and scurrying on the ground from the rooms around us. “Two dog rooms and two cat. One’s for the older animals and the other for the younger ones, but there’s a room in between where they can play with another. Outside for the dogs well.” He gestures around the hallway as we walk together.

There’s more pictures of animals on the walls actually, like in the lobby. More stories of adoption. I try to remember the info Jackson is telling me, trying my best to make notes. I find myself getting more distracted by the pictures in the hallway. One of the pictures almost makes me stop for half a second.

A boy my age, with blue eyes hugging a Siberian husky with eyes like his.

He reminded me of Daniel and Jewel.

I wonder if Daniel took Jewel with him to Waverly.

I shouldn’t think about this anymore, letting myself continue walking with Jackson.

“So you guys mostly accept cats and dogs ‘round here?” I ask, trying to push those other thoughts away.

Jackson hums a yes. “We’d like to have more animals, but we’d need a bigger facility. That’s Julianna’s dream.” A small smile appears on his face.

We seem to approach a door with a small window that Jackson peeks inside with.

“Looks like they just finished up their lunch.” Jackson says as I try to peek through the window too, not catching a glimpse as Jackson opens the door for us. I feel myself bouncing on my heels at the sound of all the scampering inside.

The door reveals a small area with a half wall that reached my hips, dividing the room between the small area and a much larger area. We walk over to peek over the wall to see a couple of staff members in the area, more than a dozen of little kittens playing with a few bigger cats, toys scattered around the area.

If there was one thing that could make my heart melt other than weddings, it was a room full of tiny little kittens. I look over the half wall, my eyes shifting from one cat to another cat.

Oh my gosh, there was a kitten rolling a little ball around. Oh my gosh, there were a pair wrestling with each other. I feel my smile only growing as I watch them play with each other.

A thought crosses my mind.

I turn to Jackson, a little shy to ask this.

“Can I pet some of them?”

Jackson smiles back at me. “Absolutely.”

YAY.

He opens a lower door attached to the half wall, telling the other employees that we were coming in. He leads me over to a sink close to the wall, where we wash our hands before we get to hold the cats. I let Jackson go first and follow right after he finishes.

Once we finished washing our hands, Jackson goes over and kneels with two employees and chats with them. I stand close to one of the walls, trying to go unnoticed, letting myself watch Jackson talk from afar.

This was Jackson’s element. It was actually really nice to see him in it. I don’t think there wasn’t a better job for someone as kind as he was.

After a few moments, he picks up a kitten with a grin and brings her over to me. I make sure to receive her and hold her tenderly in my hands, making sure to be gentle as I held her up. My cheeks are already starting to hurt from how much I was already smiling.

“Hewoooo, what’s your name sweetie?” I ask the kitten, before looking up to Jackson and mouthing how can they be this cute?

Jackson seems to laugh at that, “That one’s Ginger.” A couple of kittens purr around Jackson’s feet and he seems to pick one up, pressing a kiss to its head.

“Ginger! Ain’t that a darlin’ name!” My smile can only grow from here, while the kitten seems to purr as I hold her close to my chest and smiling over to Jackson and the kitten he picks up. She was a pretty kitten, with pure white fur. “Jackson, what’s the name of your friend over there?”

“This here is Lucinda. She has quite the spirit.” As if to prove his point, Lucinda opens her mouth to lightly nip at Jackson’s finger.

“Hello Lucinda!” I giggle, smiling down at Ginger trying to move as I held her, making sure to give her feet some needed support. It takes me a moment to remember my purpose for coming here to the shelter. Gotta balance this play with some more work. My hand starts to stroke Ginger’s head.

“So uh… all of these kittens are rescues?”

Jackson nods. “Some have been dropped off by people who can’t find homes for them, others have been found. They usually don’t last very long as people like to adopt younger animals.” My brows raise at that statement, then Jackson gestures to Ginger, “She’s getting picked up tomorrow by a nice family.”

My hand is lightly stroking Ginger as Jackson speaks, and I smile down at Ginger.

“Isn’t that exciting Ginger? You get to have a new family!” I scrunch up my nose when my smile grows, before I look back up at Jackson—still concerned with what Jackson said. “I take it that the next room of cats has a larger population then?”

Jackson bobs his head, “Not much, thankfully. Lately there’s been an uptick in older cat adoptions, to our pleasure.”

His smile at that is different than his usual smile, happier if that was even possible for Jackson.

I like it when he smiles like that, it made his handsome face light up even more. I think I was looking at him without saying anything way longer than I should.. I try to think of something to say. Staring was rude, now just say something. Quick.

“That sounds good!” I smile down onto Ginger, and she looked like she wanted to head over to the other cats. I then place a quick kiss on her head before I set her on the ground watching her scurry to the other kittens.

“Would you like to go see the older cat room? It’s about the same layout, but I don’t mind giving you a peek.”

“Of course!” I stand up and dust some of the fur Ginger had left on my dress. “I wanna see the whole place!” I think I sounded way too excited, laughing to myself to get a hold of myself. “I just... I wanna know what I’m writing about... who I’m writing about better.”

Jackson seems to let my words sink in and his smile changes from that bright smile to something softer, still a nice smile.

“I understand. I’m… I’m glad.” He says and I wait for him to say something else as his gaze seems to linger on me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he guides the two of us out and into the next room.

((One of the things that I can’t add because MISSY IS A DUMB BITCH: The two of them not noticing the employees in the area looking at the two of them like 👀 as they leave))

We spend about an hour going through the other three rooms, mostly me just playing with all the critters and giving them the attention they deserved.

Jackson and I walk down a long corridor, feeling myself smiling as we exit the older dog area.

“I don’t understand how not a lot of people would want to adopt the older dogs!” I laugh, thinking that room probably was my favorite. “Oh Daisy almost tackled me, but gosh! She was so sweet!”

“She really was.” He smiles, “Puppies tend to be popular in this area. Lots of families. We take care of the ones that aren’t adopted anyhow.” He says fondly before his eyes glances to my dress. “You really don’t mind all that?”

I look down and notice the tons of fur sticking to my yellow dress and shake my head as I try to dust myself off.

“Nothing a lint roller couldn’t fix.” I chuckle before running a hand through my hair and noting some pet hair flying away. “Besides, I can’t exactly do the work right without getting a little messy with the critters.”

He nods, “You um..” he gestures to my hair, “have a little clump caught there.”

“Oh?” I turn to Jackson fully, trying to shake it out and comb it out. “Did I get it off?”

Jackson bites his lip and shakes his head with a small smile. He reaches over to me and I stand still, keeping my eyes on him as I feel his hand tug the fur and flick it away. He smiles to me after he does and I can’t help but smile back.

“Thank you very much Mister Jackson Graham.”

From the corner of my eye, I catch some fur sticking to his shirt, on his shoulder to be more specific.

I decide to return the favor, simply brushing it off his shoulder before we start walking again.

“Now where are we headed next?”

Jackson clears his throat, “Well, I was going to take you to Julianna if that’s alright. I figured you might have some more questions.”

“It’s more than alright!” I look over to him as we walk, “There’s the background on the shelter, current problems y’all are facing, current numbers on a lot of things going around here. Of course there’s a lot of things to ask permission about too! I wanna make sure I can let the proposal really help around here... for real.”

“Really?” Jackson asks, looking surprised.

“If there’s one thing I know how to do right, it’s executing a plan.” I smirk to him, though believing with my entire heart that my plan should really be executed. “What’s the point of planning something if you don’t see it through?”

What’s the point of a proposal if you don’t plan on executing it?

What’s the point of a proposal if you don’t plan on marrying the girl? Whoops.

I push that thought away again.

Jackson’s voice helps with that.

“Yeah. You’re right.” He looks, well—it looks more like a stare now, seems hopeful. I hope I could really help with what he’s told me about with this proposal. He seems to really listen to my words, and it’s a comfort to know that he is.

I try to mirror his expression, happy to have Jackson’s attention. “Ya know, there’s more to here,” I tap my temple. “than knowing how to plan weddings and parties.” I chuckle lightheartedly as we reach a door and stop by it.

“Is this Julianna’s office?”

Jackson nods.

“It is.” He pauses, looking like he’s about to knock at the door, but instead he turns to face me.

“I’ve always thought you’re more than planning weddings and parties, Missy. Thought you should know.”

I blink a couple of times, feeling my face warm. Well, not just my face. Everything felt warm as his words echo in my head. I don’t think he knew what those words meant to me. I’m thankful that Jackson had turned his attention away as he knocks on the door. I try to get a hold on myself.  

Julianna calls out at Jackson’s knock and he enters first before I do, the two of them sharing a friendly greeting before Julianna looks over to me. Jackson then introduces me to Julianna.

I snap myself out and hope that the warmth I felt on my face didn’t show in a blush.

I move forward and extend my hand out to Julianna.

“Hi! Um, I’m Missy.” I wince, knowing that Jackson has already said my name but I try to remain calm. “I hope I haven’t come at a bad time.”

Julianna seems quite friendly as she shakes my hand from where she’s standing in front of her desk.

“Not at all. What can I do you for today?”

“Well, Miss Julianna, I’m currently working on a community engagement proposal—it's uh, a project for every Selected girl, you see-- and I was thinking of partnering up with this very shelter to be ground zero for operations.”

I look over to Jackson, silently hoping for him to tell me how I was doing. I don’t know why I’m suddenly tripping over my words.

Jackson nods once in my direction, an encouraging look on his face. I could hear him say you’re doing great with the way his eyes looked at me.

Julianna’s brows raise as she asks, “Really? What would your project entail?”

His reassurance seems to help me try to ground myself and focus on communicating this better, standing up a little straighter as I smile over to Julianna.

“I’m glad you asked.”

I take my phone out of my dress’ pocket and go through my Joogle Drive to open up the presentation deck I prepared, waiting for it to load.

“I call it Operation: Empawthy. It’s a training program for shelter animals to become therapy animals for local hospitals and community centers.” I explain as I hold my phone out for Jackson and Julianna to see. The little logo and everything I made popping up on screen, a little paw with the project title surrounding it in a circle.

“It’s been brought to my attention that... a lot of older animals that call the shelter home, and I was hoping of helping them find a purpose... beyond just waiting for adoption.”

Both Jackson and Julianna lean in to look at the presentation I made. I try to gauge their reactions. Jackson’s face seems to light up as I go through the initial slides.

Julianna seems to instantly smile, asking, “And you’d like to follow through with this? Long term?”

“Of course!” I smile at that question, excited about my plan of execution for this program. “Most of the operations and plan can be executed within the next few months.” I tap the screen and move onto my timeline slide.

I continue, “It could be executed I already have a nearby local oncology center and a social center who are willing to partner too,  and well—” My brows furrow at the next thing I say, “even if I'm no longer a Selected, it's still possible to execute, even without mobilization from the Schreaves.”

Even if I did get eliminated, at least one good thing would come from me being a Selected.

Julianna moves to walk around her desk over to where I am, and I’m surprise to feel her wrap her arms around me in a meaningful hug. I glance over to Jackson while she does, catching an expression I couldn’t quite read.

“You’re the answer to so many of my questions on how to provide for these dogs.” Julianna leans back with her hands on my shoulders, smiling. “We’d be incredibly happy to have you with us.”

I smile back at Julianna, taking both of her hands in mine.

“I'll send you the primers and plans I currently have. I'm more than happy to help in every way I can!”

Julianna’s reaction seems to give me a whole new understanding for generosity and kindness. For the first time in a long time, I feel like I got to plan something meaningful and grounded in something beyond weddings or parties.

I wasn’t going to lie, it felt freaking good.

“You’ll have to thank Jackson too for bringing me all the way here though.” I turn to Jackson as I say that. I definitely wouldn’t have thought of this fully without remembering what he had said to me.

Julianna waves a hand, “Jackson has my eternal thanks. Bringing you here only goes to show his incredible judgement.”

Jackson looks down with a smile at Julianna’s compliment, before looking back up at Julianna with amusement.

“Kiss up.” He says.

She reaches out and gives Jackson a side hug across his shoulders. “And not ashamed of it.”

I don’t get why Merrick would ever call her scary.

I can’t help but laugh at the banter between them, tucking my hair behind both of my ears.

“Incredible judgment indeed!” I nod a couple of times, clasping my hands in front of me. “Thank you for letting me loop the shelter into this. I promise you both this project isn't gonna disappoint. That's a Duthé promise.”

“I have a feeling that’s a promise never broken.” Jackson says softly, his smile very soft.

Julianna seems to pause briefly at that, her smile not faltering.

“Once we receive all your information, I’ll keep close touch with you. Everyone will be so thrilled.”

I turn to Jackson, looking to him with an amused expression.

“You’re right, it’s never broken.” I punctuate that with a wink to him before I nod over to Julianna and quickly slip my calling card out of my phone’s card holder.

I always kept copies of it in case I met a potential wedding client but, it would work for now what with all my contact details on it. Let’s hope Julianna would just ignore all the wedding planner details on it.

“This is my card, I'll be probably contacting you through the email and number here. If there's anything I can do to help, just let me know. We'll definitely keep in touch.”

Julianna takes the card from me and sets it on her desk with a thank you, then mentions to us that she needed to get back to work and Jackson excuses us. He mentions that he’ll be back in the evening as we leave her office before Jackson leads me back into the hallway. I don’t forget to say a quick thank you before we leave.

“That was… wow.” He says once we’re outside of Julianna’s office. I try to eye Jackson’s reaction before I let myself smile and do a little happy dance, unable to control how happy I felt.

“OH MY GOSH!” my voice seems to go up another octave before I reach over and give Jackson a hug. “Thank you so so much for bringing me here and helping me make this happen!”

Jackson seems to laugh as he catches me, and I feel his hand going to my back.

“You were the one with the incredible ideas. It was wonderful, Missy.”

((Another thing I can’t write BUT I SCREECHED: */like you/* he thinks))

I pull away from him, still grinning but feeling a little shy with Jackson’s compliment. My face starts to feel warm again. I try to ignore it this time. I’m probably just too happy with getting the shelter as a partner.

“I’m so happy that you think so. I just thought—” My phone suddenly starts to ring, an alarm going off as I quickly reach into my pocket to snooze it.

5:30. Prepare for Dinner. I see on the screen.

Jackson still watches me as I handle it, “Everything alright?”

I stuff my phone back into my dress’ pocket and nodding, not letting the alarm dampen the mood.

“Yeah! I just... have alarms for whenever I probably should change or get ready for dinner at the palace.” I explain with a little laugh. “As I was saying, uh...” I’m trying to remember what I was going to say a few seconds ago, but I’ve completely lost my train of thought.

“Okay honestly, thank you for the moral support.” I decide to thank Jackson again for being there, then I lower my voice jokingly, “Julianna... kinda did scare me.”

Hmmm, maybe that’s why I was stumbling over my words initially.

Jackson chuckles at that, “She’s a bit intimidating at first, but there’s nothing to be afraid of. She loved you.” I laugh lightly and try to shrug it off.

Then he gestures to the phone in my pocket.

“I guess I should um, be getting you back now?”

I nod slowly, feeling a little sad that I was already leaving the shelter. I think I’ve enjoyed myself here way more than I expected.

“Are you sure it’s too much to ask from you?” I wanted to make sure that he was alright with it, knowing that he was going to come back here anyway. He’s already done so much for me already.

He tilts his head. “Driving you to the palace? No, of course not.” A growing smile appears on his face.

“I’d love to.”

His smile seems to put me at ease, so I loop my arm around his and smile to him.

“Then I guess we better get going, Mister Jackson Graham.”

Jackson doesn’t say anything, only keeping his smile to me and leading the way back. 

[keanuquotes]

ONLY IN HOLLYWOOD Keanu Reeves opens up, from ‘John Wick’ to ‘Swedish Dicks

 ’By:

Ruben V. Nepales

- Columnist

Philippine Daily Inquirer

/ 12:45 AM February 12, 2017

Keanu Reeves —RUBEN V. NEPALES

LOS ANGELES—Over the years that we’ve interviewed Keanu Reeves, he has transformed from being shy, reticent and serious to a more open, convivial interviewee.

One thing that has remained constant, though, is that Keanu, at 52, still looks young. The actor attributed it to “heritage, genes.” His father’s roots are Chinese and Hawaiian while his mom is English. He added with a smile, “I need more potions and lotions but I think that I have put this carcass through a lot.” 

“I live down the street,” replied Keanu, dressed in his favorite suit and T-shirt attire combination, when asked where his home was. We were at The London West Hollywood hotel. “I am serious. I live in West Hollywood. It’s a nice house. There’s a nice view. It’s kind of small—there’s a couple of rooms.”

Keanu returns to the titular hitman role in “John Wick: Chapter 2,” a sequel to the moody thriller which became a huge global hit. Chad Stahelski, who was Keanu’s stunt double in “The Matrix,” is also back to direct the film, which finds the assassin protagonist returning to the criminal underworld to repay a debt. But John Wick finds that a bounty has been put on his life. 

Laurence Fishburne, Bridget Moynahan, Common, Ruby Rose, Ian McShane and Peter Stormare costar.

“The Matrix” star also talked about how Peter got him involved in “Swedish Dicks,” a comedy web TV series about two unlicensed Nordic private investigators trying to make a living in Los Angeles.

Keanu will also be back as Ted in the next installment of the “Bill & Ted Project” movie series.

Excerpts from our chat:

What do you do to keep looking young? I get out of the shower. I moisturize—a little face cream, a little body cream and call it a day. I like to eat and drink but that has to stop. I have a wonderful trainer whom I have worked with for decades. She will call me or send me a message and just say, “I haven’t seen you in a while.” So I will jump into that.

 What do you like to drink? I love a cold glass of water when [I’m] thirsty. That is heaven. If I have to pick something outside of that, it would be red wine and whisky.

What’s your red wine pick? Off the top of my head, I would take a 1982 Oberon. 

You’re a global star, recognized all over the world. Yet, you have managed to lead a very private life. I don’t get out much (laughs). I am at home or working or studying…

What has been your experience with fame? Ultimately, my experience has been really cool. Some of the work that I have been a part of has been well-received by an audience.  So that’s where fame hits me the most, in the sense… [that] if I am out in the world, I am meeting people, shaking hands, saying hi and maybe signing autographs and perhaps posing for photos.

Then business-wise, it’s cool just to have other artists who want to work with me sometimes. It affords some opportunity to be able to create and do what I do.

As fascinating as John Wick’s world is, it’s ultimately about his relationship to his dog and car. In a strange way, John Wick feels more connection with those than with humans. Yeah. So the film takes place about five days after the first one. It opens with him trying to get his car back. It ultimately is not about the car. It’s about the letter and a photograph from his deceased wife that are inside the car.

At the end of the first film, he connects with this other hound and walks away into the sunset. That element is keeping him connected to the world, and in a way, keeps a connection with his wife…

In real life, are you also sentimental about letters and people? Yeah, I am pretty normal in that sense.  I definitely hold on to letters, cards and tokens or gifts that were given in connection with holidays or events. So I have some boxes of photographs and letters. There are times when I open them up and look at them.

There’s this interesting scene with you in the kitchen. How good are you in the kitchen in real life? I don’t cook. I am confident in the kitchen eating (laughs). If I am a houseguest, I would be happy to help you with the dishes.

I didn’t know how to operate that coffeemaker (in the scene). So I spent some time training (laughs). I made sure that it looked natural. So now, I can make coffee.

You cofounded a company that makes one-of-a-kind motorcycles. Do you drive yours to travel around the world? Yeah. We make one model but each motorcycle is customized to the customer—how it looks, the different finishes and colors. We fit the motorcycle to the client—the length of their arms, what kind of riding style, their height and foot position and controls.

As for taking motorcycle trips, sure. In France I got to ride Route Napoleon, which was amazing. On my list of regrets, I haven’t done all of the rides that I want to do but hopefully, someday. I have had the chance to ride in Northern Australia and the United States. But I still haven’t done the classic ride through Italy, Spain and South America.

There are so many rides that I didn’t get the chance to do. I am so old that my list of regrets is turning into a bucket list (laughs). It started out [as] things I hoped to do, then [became] the list of regrets, and now, the bucket list.

Let’s talk about “Swedish Dicks.” How and why did you end up in that TV series? Peter Stormare is an actor whom I have worked with before in a film called “Constantine.” And actually, Peter is in “John Wick: Chapter 2.” We happen to train in the same neighborhood gym.  I see him oftentimes in the morning. So it’s actually where “John Wick 2” came in, too, because he liked the first film. He was like, “Is there anything that I could do?” I was like, “By the way…”

So Chad Stahelski, the director, contacted Peter. That same kind of social interaction happened with “Swedish Dicks.” Peter produced a series in Sweden called “Swedish Dicks.” He was talking about it. I have such respect for him as an artist. He is a really cool cat.  So I was like, “Can I do anything?”

He told me the show’s premise. I was interested in doing some comedy. He said, “OK, that could be a good idea.” Then we started to creatively riff.  He was on the exercise machine and I was standing there. I was like, “OK, I want to play this character.”

He was like, “OK, that’s good.” Then I was like, “But you have to kill me.” He was like, “Yeah, that sounds good.” I believe I am in five episodes. I play Tex. It was really cool.

Back to the film, the ending sets up “Chapter 3” very well. What’s the story on that? That is really up to the audience. From my and the filmmakers’ point of view, everyone involved would love to be able to continue the story. I love the character and the world that it created. I want to know what happens to John Wick. I am rooting for the guy. He has a lot going against him.

It’s fun to think about the possibilities where the story can go. As the director likes to say, “There are no rules with rules.”

Can you ask for a love interest? Yeah, that has been spoken about.

Read more:

https://entertainment.inquirer.net/215097/keanu-reeves-opens-john-wick-swedish-dicks#ixzz6Dks7sSZr

via https://vk.com/keanurussianclub

[lovingthereign25]

The Heart Wants What It Wants

CH.2

You pull up to the arena and see Roman unpacking his car you sit in your car pretending to be on the phone so Roman wouldn't approach the car to talk about what happened this morning.You watch him and a few others enter the arena then decide to get out and unpack yourself. You slowly make your way into your shared dressing room with Renee. You and Renee were pretty close, as you were with a lot of the female superstars and some male ones too. "So I got your list of interviews for tonight from Marc." She says handing you the list,"You got a few on screen interviews tonight girl!" she smiles

"Oh awesome" you say smiling until you see his name second on your list. 

" What's wrong?" Renee asked

" Nothing just noticed I interview Roman" you say 

" Do you have a problem is with the Big Dog?" She asks

Just as you were about to answer there's a knock on your dressing room door.

" Come in" you both say

" Hey Renee can I speak to Y/n alone please" you turn and see Roman standing there.

" umm. Sure I was gonna head to catering anyway" she smile patting his back before leaving you two alone.

" Y/n , about this morning , I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you, its just I thought we were on the same page" he says 

"Its cool Roman, but I gotta change and get ready I'll see you in a little bit" you say walking in the bathroom to change.

Roman sighs and leaves. Walking right into Carmella.

"Shit Sorry Mella " he says rubbing his neck

"No worries, everything okay? She asks

" Yeah, Good luck tonight!" he smile "Thank you!, same to you" she smiled back before he walks off.

Carmella walks right in on you in while changing scaring you half to death.

"Damn babes that's the outfit for tonight? she asks turning you around .

" Yes ma'am, is it too much?" You ask checking yourself once more in the mirror.

" No no it's perfect! Where'd you get it from? she asked checking the tag

" It was a gift actually" you say grabbing your makeup bag 

" From who?, that's a dumb question obviously from Jackson!" She says thumbing her head lightly.

" Y-yeah from Jackson" you lie 

You felt bad lying to your best friend,But it never seemed like the right time to tell her about Roman and you.Carmella and you walk down to get your makeup done for the show sitting in the having some much needed girl.

" So what did Roman wanna talk about before?" Renee asked from the chair next to you.

"H- he wanted to over the interview so we could get comfortable so we wouldn't mess up" you lie again

" Nice, he's such a sweet guy, if you were single I'd hook you two up"she says 

"Isn't he married? You ask pretending not to already know

" Yeah but they are separated and getting a divorce soon" she explains

Renee gets done she tell you she'll see you guys later and heads off to start the show.When it's just you and Carmella again she asks the makeup artist you leave you two alone for a second. They agree you look at your best friend confused.

" Spill" is all she says turning toward you

" Spill what?" You ask

" What did Roman really want?" She replies

" To go over the inter-" you start but Mella cuts you off 

" Bullshit" she says " I know when you lie and I caught you a few times today like when I asked if you were okay morning you lied about missing Jackson, then again with the outfit you lied about him buying it! Y/n what's going on?"she says

"Mella, you need to swear you won't tell no one not even Corey" you say

"Done" she answered 

" I've been messing around with Roman for a few months now, and it's a whole ass mess girl let me tell you and today he told me he loved me, I just don't know what to do" you blurt out

" Holy shit Y/n"she gasps, " I wasn't expecting that, what about Jackson? She asks

" I don't know, i love Jackson I really do but its just seems like all he cares about is his work, and Roman he makes me feel special like when he looks at me Car it's like I'm the only girl in the world!" You explain tears building in your eyes

"Y/n honey don't cry!" We'll figure this all out okay?" she hugs you, you nod and let Lisa finish your makeup.

It's just about time for you interview with Roman. You were a little nervous until he walked up to you giving you a smile. You practice the interview before going live. You have a small break before they cut to your interview.

"Nice outfit" Roman smirks

" Thanks" you smile at him

" I told you it fit you just right, the way it hugs your curves perfectly" he says licking his lips. 

After you interview Roman about his match coming up you thank him for his time and go to find Carmella and some of the girls. You find them sitting backstage watching whatever match was going on. You take a seat by Carmella and Lana.

" Y/n you coming out with us tonight ?'' Lana asks 

" uhh I don't know" you shrug

" yes, yes she is she definitely needs a night out" Carmella say making plans for you

"Everyone is coming even some guys, it'll be fun" Lana says nudging your shoulder.

" Sure then" you smile . 

Roman's music starts to play on the screen ahead. You look up from your phone seeing him walk down the aisle to the ring. He looked so good in his gear, hair wet, doing the sexy little nod he does from time to time. You're so caught up watching Roman you don't hear any of the conversation Lana was having with you until she said your name a little louder

" Damn girl are you listening to me?" She asked 

" Yeah Sorry I just never really get to enjoy the show" you say Turning your attention back to the match as you do you see Roman take a pretty bad hit  from Samoa Joe. Usually you could tell when Roman was acting hurt and this wasn't like that he wasn't getting back up as quickly he was hurt.

"Damn what a hit" you heard someone behind you say.

" Guess the Big Dog  got put down" you hear another say. 

With that you whip around seeing Charlotte Flair with a smirk.

" Can you shut the fuck up, I've seen the "Queen" get knocked off her thrown a few time if I recall correctly" you snap

" Y/n you okay?" Lana asks

" Seriously girl calm down, let's go for air " Mella says you get up and follow Carmella and Lana

" What the hell was that about?" Lana asks once outside.

" Nothing Y/n is just stressed" Carmella lies 

" No, Mella I can't lie to Lana you two are my best friends, I've been messing Roman for a few months now" you say looking down

" Wow, Oh. I don't even know what to say, so is it over between you and Jackson?" She asks

" No, he has no idea, I feel like shit" you say

You tell your friends everything, how you got started with Roman, how you felt neglected by Jackson, and how Roman told you he loved you and you ended things this morning.

'' Holy crap I really need that drink now" Lana laughs trying  to lighten the mood

'' Right, that's what I'm saying " Mella joins in

" I'm gonna go check on Roman" you say

"You sure?,  want me to come with?" Mella asks 

" Nah I'll be fine I'll see you at the club" you hug them both and head to the trainers room.

You enter the trainers room and see Roman lying on the treatment table. He looks like he's in so much pain the medic notices you and assumes you want a statement from Roman and leaves the room.

"What are you doing here?" Roman asks through gritted teeth from the pain

" Just came to make sure you were okay Rome, you took a hard hit out there" you say walking over to him placing your hand on his but he moves his hand away

" Don't. I'm cool! " he says mocking your words before

" Roman.. Don't be like that I care about you, it's just complicated" you try to explain.

" It doesn't even matter Y/n, its over between us right?, it was all just sex I get it" he says trying to sit himself up. You try to help him but he stops you.

" Roman please can't we just talk about it?" You ask

" Now you wanna talk about it, No Y/n its fine we fucked for a few months it was fun now you can go home to your husband and pretend to be happy and in love and what not" he says .

You nod and leave the room. You pack your things and head to your car taking your phone out to call Carmella asking her to meet you at your hotel room. When she arrives, you ask her to cover for you with WWE that you going home for a rest. But the truth was you weren't you were going home to tell your husband face to face what you have done.Whether it was to save your marriage or end it that you weren't sure of but either way this was what you needed to do.

Your outfit:

[mustangshelby04]

Boston Boy - Chapter 3

A/N This chapter is pure fluff. Enjoy!!

“So what’s on the agenda today?” Kate asked as Chris walked into her hotel room.

“I thought we could hit up some museums.  Maybe check out the aquarium.” Chris said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Someone’s excited today.”

“Yeah.  I have good reason to be.” He grinned at her and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Do you have something planned?”

“Nope.  I’m just spending the day with you.”

She chuckled. “Your enthusiasm is appreciated, but I keep telling you that I’m not that exciting.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.  Besides, the first day I met you, you ended up in dog shit.  The next day, you ended up with a broken tooth.”  

“I’m hoping that particular pattern doesn’t continue.”

“Well, if it does, I’m here to make sure you’re ok.”

“My hero.”

“Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll sweep you off your feet later.”

She laughed. “I doubt that.  I’m heavier than I look.  It’s all in the boobs and butt.”

He shrugged and suddenly swept her up in his arms.  She clung to his neck as her eyes widened and she realized he was actually holding her up. “I lift a lot of weights.” He kissed her cheek before setting her down. “And you’re not that heavy.”

She laughed. “That’s the first time that’s ever happened to me.”

“No one’s ever swept you up in their arms before?”

“Not since I was in my early teens.  It wasn’t so much a sweep-me-off-my-feet thing.  It was more to get me up on doctor’s tables or put me back in my wheelchair or on my crutches.  I was in a leg brace for a while after breaking my kneecap and tearing my ACL.”

“Ouch!  What happened?”

“I was practicing a sit spin and I was too close to the boards.  I travelled into them and my knee bent the wrong way before I sling-shotted back around and hit my kneecap hard enough to crack it in three places.”

“Fuck!” He shook his head. “What’s a sit spin?”

“Did I fail to mention that I was a figure skater from age six till age thirteen?”

“Yes.”

“I was a figure skater from age six till age thirteen.” She laughed. “And a sit spin is where you spin on one blade in a crouched position with the other leg extended in front of you.”

“Oh!  I didn’t know what it was called.  So, can you still skate?”

“Not at all like I used to.  It’s not like riding a bike.  I can still go forwards and backwards and sideways and do some spins and stops, but no jumps or fancy footwork or anything really cool.  I still go skate every now and then.”

“Nice.  It’s good you didn’t leave it completely behind.”

“If I hadn’t busted my knee, I would’ve continued in competitive skating.  I loved it.  A lot.  For a while it was my escape from everything bad in my life.  It still kind of is sometimes.  There’s nothing in the world like turning on the music and having the ice all to yourself while you feel the cold air flying past you.  It’s my form of meditation, I guess.  Nothing else exists when I’m on the ice.” She sighed. “I did get one thing from my busted knee, though.  I can tell you when rain or snow is coming.  And neither of them are going to bother us today, so let’s go enjoy the day, shall we?”

He laughed. “We shall.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Chris and Kate made their way through the aquarium side by side.  They’d strolled through two museums before making their way to the aquarium.  They’d been there for the last hour and a half just enjoying each other’s company.  At the moment, he was enjoying her reactions to the penguins.  She laughed when one penguin tried to jump from one rock to the next and failed, splashing into the water.

“I love penguins.” She said. “I think they’re my spirit animal.”

“Yeah?  How come?”

“They’re klutzy and adorable.  I want one.”

He laughed. “I’m not sure they’d make a great pet.”

“Are you kidding me?  Penguins love humans.  I imagine they’d be like puppies.”

“How would you house break them?”

“Good question.  Maybe just like a puppy?  Positive reinforcement.  Give them an anchovy whenever they piddle on the puppy pad.”

“Well what about their climate?  They need cold.”

“Not all penguins.” She pointed at the little African penguins. “They don’t live in the cold all the time.  They’re from South Africa.”

“You’ve got this all planned out, huh?”

“Not entirely.  It’s mostly just a long shot of a dream.” She turned and began to walk.  He caught up with her and she said, “Dolphins.”

“What about them?” He asked.

“They’re my favorite animal.  Ever since I was a kid.  One day I want to go swimming with them.  There’s this place in Florida….”

“Discovery Cove.  Yeah, I’ve heard of it.  Never been, though.”

“Me either.  But I want to go.” They walked into the gift shop and started browsing. “When I was little, I wanted to be a dolphin trainer.  I wanted to be able to work alongside these beautiful animals and help take care of them…. I still wouldn’t hate it.”

“Then why don’t you go for it?”

She laughed. “I’m much too old to be a dolphin trainer now.”

“You’re only 30.”

“Hey.  I’m 29.  I’ve got a couple of weeks left before I hit that particular milestone birthday.”

“It’s not bad.”

“Oh, I know.  In fact, I’d like to celebrate it.  Lauren and I always talked about going to Disneyworld for our 30th birthdays, but she’s not seeming so interested in it now.  We were supposed to start planning this year, but every time I bring it up, she has an excuse.” She sighed. “One day I’ll go to Disneyworld.”

“Wait, you’ve never been?”

“Nope.  It’s a thorn in my relationship with my mother.” She laughed. “That woman has been telling me she’ll take me to Disneyworld for almost 30 years and I still haven’t seen the inside of the most magical place on earth.  For someone who has lived and breathed Disney most of her life, it pains my heart.”

“Why haven’t you gone?”

“Not enough time or money…. Or anyone to go with.  I told mom that even if I had a family of my own, when I do go to Disney, she’s paying for me.”

He laughed. “So you’re a Disney fan, huh?”

“Of course!  What, you couldn’t tell by the Merida costume?”

He laughed. “I probably should have.  It was fairly elaborate.  Right up there with Merida from Disneyworld.”

“I know.  My niece went to Disneyworld this summer.  Thank god the woman playing the part was a good actress because Hailey wanted to talk all about the time Merida came to visit for her birthday.”

“It’s pretty impressive that she remembers it.”

“I know!  She was only two!” She looked around. “I’ve got to use the restroom.  I’ll be right back.” She lightly touched his arm before rushing off.  When she came out, Chris was waiting for her with a fluffy stuffed penguin in his arms.

“I know it’s not a real one, but I thought it was a start for your long shot dream.” He handed it to her. “And a way to remember our visit.”

She laughed. “I think I’ll name him Cap.  He looks like an honorable penguin.” He laughed. “Well, what about you?  What’s your favorite animal?”

Chris paused to think for a minute. “Probably an elephant.  They’re such majestic, peaceful creatures.”

Kate smiled at him. “Good choice.”

“Thanks.  Are you hungry?  I have an idea for dinner.”

“Oh, you have an idea, huh?  I didn’t know you could have those.”

“Ha!  Come on, blondie.  Let’s go.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and smiled to himself.  He was glad they were able to pick on each other without either of them getting offended.  It meant, at least to him, that they were getting comfortable with each other.

“You’re not going to tell me your idea?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll figure it out kinda quick.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Chris pulled into the parking lot of Whole Foods and she looked at him suspiciously. “I make a mean chicken carbonara.  Unfortunately, I don’t have everything I need, so I have to make a pit stop.”

“Wait…. You’re going to cook for me?” She asked. “Where?”

“At my place.” He smiled at her shocked face. “I just thought a night in away from the hotel would be nice.  I know it can start to feel cramped in a hotel room even after a couple of days.”

“You want to take me to your place?” “Why not?  Afraid I’ll give you food poisoning?”

“No.  I don’t know why not.  I was just…. Surprised that you wanted to show me your place.”

“Technically this is our third date.” He got out and came around to open her door for her.

“Well, it’s our first if you’re counting the fact that you didn’t ask me to see where this goes until last night.”

“True.  But that’s just a technicality.” He stopped and she turned to face him. “I mean it when I say that I’ve never felt so comfortable with someone so quickly.  Usually I have a problem with the English language and I sweat profusely and it’s never a good thing, but….” He reached out and took her hands. “I like you.  You’ve got this light that I’m just drawn to.”

“Like a bug zapper?” She laughed, trying to brush off the seriousness that had descended upon them.

“Only if you choose to keep your guard up.”

The seriousness in his voice stopped any jokes she was about to make. “I don’t mean to, Chris.”

“I know.  You’ve been hurt bad by multiple men in your life.  One of them you were supposed to be able to trust not to ever hurt you.  So, I know that it might take some time for you to completely grasp that I like you and I’m willing to keep trying until you trust me.”

“They’re just stories, though.”

“What?”

“Fairytales.  They’re just stories.”

“This feels like a fairytale to you?”

She shrugged. “Three days and the handsome prince is star struck by the peasant girl.  If only we’d met in the woods and gone dancing, maybe this would sink in better.  I don’t know.” He chuckled. “Well, you are blonde like Sleeping Beauty and just as pale.”

“And you’re just as handsome as Prince Phillip.  Who was my first crush, by the way.”

Chris took her hand and they walked into the store. “You had a crush on a cartoon?”

“Don’t judge.”

“Oh, I’m not.  My first crush was Maid Marian from Robin Hood.”

“The Disney version?”

He blushed slightly. “Yeah.” “I thought Robin Hood was cute.”

That made him laugh. “What was it about Prince Phillip that you liked?”

“He was dashing and brave and very well drawn.  And he talked to his horse like he was a person.  I’ve always talked to my animals like that.” He grinned. “What was it about Maid Marian that you liked?” “She was spunky.  I thought I could have fun with her.  I used to run around pretending to be Robin Hood.  I would say all of his lines for him when the movie was on.  Which would make my sister Carly come after me.”

“You’re the second oldest child, right?”

“Yup.  Carly, then me, then Scott, and then Shanna.”

“What are they like?  Well, besides Scott, because I met him and he’s a pretty cool guy.”

Chris smiled as he picked out the cheese he was planning to use that evening. “Carly is your typical older sister.  Bossy, slightly overbearing, used to be a bully to her younger siblings, but you never fucked with her family or she would come after you like Jason Borne.” She laughed and followed him down the next aisle. “Scott and I were always close growing up.  I would usually get us in trouble and he would always take the heat for it because he was too nice.  And Shanna…. She’s your typical younger sister.  She’s the baby, you know.  Bratty, kind of annoying, but not loud.  She’s one of the quiet ones.  Definitely prefers to keep to herself.  I can’t say I blame her with a family as loud as ours is.  But she’s my baby sister and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”

“What about your mom?”

“She’s insane.”

She laughed. “Isn’t that description of most mothers?”

“Probably?  Is yours?”

“You have no idea.”

He laughed. “Ma is…. She collects anything and everything I’ve ever done.  Every newspaper or magazine that I’m in, she collects it.  She has a shelf with nothing but DVDs and Blurays of my movies and even the TV shows I’ve done.  She’s so proud of me that she’s bursting at the seams with it.  And she’s one of my best friends.  I tell her everything.  I always have.” She smiled. “She sounds great.  Your whole family does.”

“What about yours?”

“Uh…. Mom is definitely insane.  We don’t always get along, though.  She has very strong opinions and isn’t afraid to shove them on you.  Sometimes I get the feeling that she thinks I’m still a misguided kid that she needs to guide by the hand.  Though she’s never really had to worry too much about me because I’m boring.  I’ve never done drugs.  I didn’t have sex until I knew I was ready and it was with someone I’d been with for a really long time.  The first time I skipped school was senior year the day before prom to go shopping and like a bad episode of Saved By The Bell, I got caught by a news crew doing interviews with teenagers about the new program they were implementing at the mall.  And much to my surprise, mom wasn’t mad.  She was excited that I had done something semi-bad.”

Chris had finished getting everything he needed and they headed for the checkout counter. “So you were a goody two shoes?”

“Yeah, I guess.  I did go through a goth phase for a while.  Drove my mom bonkers because all I wanted to do was shop at Hot Topic, listen to rock music, and read vampire novels.  I even dyed my hair blonde on top and blood red on bottom.”

Chris looked her up and down. “I cannot see you as a goth.  Please tell me there’s photographic proof.”

“Unfortunately there is.  But, fortunately, I don’t have any with me.  It’s all back home in photo albums.”

He gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I can’t wait to see them.  I feel like I’m going to have the best blackmail on the planet.” They stepped up to pay and before he could get in his wallet, she ducked under him and swiped her card. “What are you doing?”

“Paying.” She grinned up at him as she put in her pin. “You’ve gotten dinner the last two nights.  At least let me get this since you’re cooking.”

“I don’t think I have a choice now.” He playfully bumped her with his hip as she took the receipt and he picked up the bags.  The girl that had rung them up was staring unabashedly at Chris and giving Kate the stink eye from the side of her stare.  Chris seemed completely oblivious as he dug in his pocket for his car key.  Kate smiled politely at the girl and followed Chris out.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

“Well, this is it.” Chris said as they walked back into the living room of the spacious apartment. “I keep it for when I need some time to myself.”

“Or when you have a girl over that hasn’t made it to family meeting level yet?” “Uh, I guess so.  I haven’t actually had any girls over here since I got the place.  You’re the first.”

She blushed and walked over to the windows overlooking the city. “It has a great view.” They were at the top floor of a fourteen story building.

“The roof is mine, too.  I’ve got a little patio set up there with a grill.”

“Nice.” She turned back around to see him in the kitchen getting everything ready to cook.  Walking over to the island, she slid onto a stool and watched him work for a moment.  He shot her some smiles as she sat there.

“Oh!  Would you like something to drink?  Fuck, I’m a moron for not thinking of it.” He opened the refrigerator and rifled around. “I have beer, beer, water, beer, and oh look…. A bottle of white.  No idea how that got in there.  I’m blaming Scott.”

“Well, whoever it was, I’ll thank them later.”

“White wine?”

“Sounds good to me.” 

Chris rummaged through the drawers till he found a corkscrew and opened the bottle.  He pulled down a wine glass and poured her a generous amount. “I have no idea what kind it is.”

She grabbed the bottle and tilted it. “Oh, yum.  It’s a Riesling.  I love Rieslings.  Busch Gardens in Williamsburg has this shop in their Germany section that sells a bottle from this winery called…. I think…. Zeppelin.  It’s all in German and has a picture of a zeppelin on it.  And the lady at the store said that it was served on the Hindenburg.  But I love it.  I get a bottle pretty much every time I go.”

“Busch Gardens?  The amusement park in Florida?”

“Well, there’s two of them.  One in Florida and the one near me in Williamsburg.  The one in Florida is more Africa themed, I think.  I’ve never been.  I know they have a lot of wildlife there.  The one in Williamsburg is called Busch Gardens Europe.  It has different sections that are different countries.  Kind of like Epcot, but not.” She chuckled. “I have a season pass.  They’re doing Hallowscream right now.”

“Cool.  Do you think we can go?”

“I don’t know.  I mean, I think this weekend is the last before they start setting up Christmastown.”

Chris stopped what he was doing and turned to her. “Christmastown?”

“Yeah.  They turn the entire place into a Christmas wonderland.  There’s lights everywhere!  One section of the park has snow.  And there’s hot chocolate for days!  The Santa they have looks like the real deal.  They have different Christmas shows and some of the rides are open.  It’s really neat.  And I’m extremely excited because Elvis Stojko has a show this year.” At his blank look, she elaborated. “He’s a pretty famous figure skater from the 90s.  Kinda known as the bad boy of skating.”

“Oh.  That’s really cool.  I’d like to go to Christmastown.  It sounds awesome.”

“Well, I may know someone who can get you in at a discounted rate.”

“Yeah?  You may need to call her up and tell her to make plans for a date one evening.” He winked at her and got back to work.  She blushed and looked into her wine glass.  Three days in and he was talking about making future plans with her.  What was happening? “So, tell me more about your family.  You said your sister is a long story.”

“Ugh!  Where do I even begin with her?”

“Well, generally the beginning is a good start.”

“Ok.  I’m three years older than her and she’s not supposed to exist.  My mom got her tubes tied when she had me.  She didn’t want another kid.  But somehow, one of the tubes came untied or something and my sister was conceived.  She was six weeks early and had all kinds of problems.  We didn’t find out until about three or four years later that she’s partially deaf.  My mom babied her and my father loved her.  He never hurt her like he did my mom and I.” She took a long sip of wine and he turned to look at her. “I had a lot of anger when my parents split up and my mom moved us to a different state and she married someone new and I broke my knee and couldn’t skate anymore…. I took it out on Janice.  I turned into my father.  My mom sent me away to my grandmother’s house.  My father was living with her, but Memaw was sort of my protector.  He didn’t really mess with me.  And then my father decided he wanted custody of us both and fought my mom.  He won and my sister stayed in Kentucky with us.  Then my grandma died and I was front and center for the mental and physical abuse.  Jan was completely oblivious to it.  When my mom found out I had planned to kill myself, she brought me here for spring break and told me that when I finished my freshman year I would be moving back with her.  She wanted to bring my sister, too, but Jan chose to stay with our father.  She was going to a school where she wasn’t getting the help she needed and our father didn’t give a shit about her, so she just…. Wilted.  My sister is a 73 year old woman stuck in a 27 year old body.  Lara is going to school for her masters in psychology and she’s pretty sure Jan has Asperger’s.  All of her little quirks made sense once I read up on it.  But the damage is done.  Jan and I don’t get along that great.  I love her.  She’s my sister.  I will defend her with my life and have a couple of times.  But we spend a lot of time at each other’s throats.”

Chris turned back to his cooking before he burned anything. “It’s a sibling thing, maybe?”

“She’s a stick in the mud.  I’m a…. Well, the word vivacious gets thrown around a lot.  She doesn’t have a sense of humor, I’m kind of a sarcastic jerk like the rest of my family.  She’s the black sheep of the family.”

“Every family has one.” She took another long sip of her wine and realized she had drank it all. “Here,” Chris grabbed the bottle out of the fridge and poured her some more. “What about your brother?  Where was he in all that?”

“Uh, my brother is actually my step-brother.  It’s very rare that I distinguish that.  He’s been in my life since I was really young.  He’s had a tough childhood, too.  His mother was a raving lunatic and forged his dad’s signature on papers that signed his parental rights away so Killi could be adopted by her new husband.  My step-dad is an alcoholic, so he was too drunk to know what happened until much later.  He’s been sober for the last sixteen plus years.  January will be seventeen years.  Anyway, Killi lived with his mom in Tennessee and came out to visit more and more.  He went to college in Alabama and while he was in his junior year, his mother committed suicide and blamed it on him.  Left him a note saying it was because he left her and went away to college.  He was really messed up about it.  It’s only recently that he sought help.”

“Fuck!  Poor guy.  You’re closer to your brother, then?”

“Oh yeah.  Bad childhoods make instant connections.” She chuckled. “He’s my big brother and he acts like it.  We pick on each other and we share things that no one else knows.  He’s the one that convinced my mom not to lose her shit about me getting a tattoo.  When the asshole cheated on me, my sister in law said she had to beg and plead with Killi not to grab his gun and drive up to ‘take care of things’.  He was incredibly proud of me for giving the asshole a nice shiner.”

Chris laughed. “I’d say he deserved worse than a shiner.”

“Well, yeah.  He probably would’ve gotten it too if he hadn’t run off like he did.” She took a deep breath. “It smells great.” “It’ll be done soon.”

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“Watching my family.  We’re part Italian, so there’s always someone cooking something.  I just watched and learned.  Truthfully, this is about as skillful as I get on my own.” He checked the bread in the oven before leaning his arms against the island in front of her. “What about you?  Can you cook?”

“Uh, yes and no.  I can cook, but I’m much better at baking.  I love to make bread.  It’s a lot of work, but the payoff is usually worth it.”

“Where did you learn?” “My mom.  She and my father were both chefs for a while.  Well, my father still is.  Mom cooks almost every night.  There’s a bookshelf in the corner of the house that’s filled with cookbooks.  Everything you’ve ever wanted to make is probably in that bookshelf.”

“What’s your favorite food?”

“Oh god…. Uh…. Do I have to choose just one?” 

He laughed. “A foodie, huh?”

“Lately, yes.  I’ve decided to try new things.  I was a picky eater for a long time.  While I was skating, my diet was pretty strict.  So was the regimen.  I’m pretty sure that it would’ve made your training for Cap look like child’s play.”

“Try me.”

“Ok.  I was up about 4:30 every morning, went to the rink to train, came home, ate breakfast, did whatever studying I needed to do for that day, then it was off to school.  After school, depending on what day it was, I would go to ballet class, or pilates, or gymnastics, or weight training, then it would be back to the rink to work on choreography before going home and doing homework, eating dinner, and then going to sleep before doing it all again the next day.  I was a machine.  At the age of twelve I could leg press 375 pounds.”

“Fuck!  Every day?”

“Every day.  I got started kind of late age-wise.  I trained like crazy to catch up and be the best I could be.  And all the while, I had to maintain no less than Bs in all of my classes or else mom would make me stop skating.”

“Yeah, I just eat healthy and lift weights every day.  Lots of protein shakes.”

“Ugh!  I always hated those.  I didn’t need them much, though.  The curse is trying to put on muscle without putting on weight.  Just a couple of pounds could throw off your center of gravity and that leads to all kinds of badness.  The list of injuries I could give you that I’ve been through is as tall as me.”

“Oh, then that’s not that long, then.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, yeah.  I’m short.”

He laughed and went back to finish the chicken carbonara. “So, you’re trying new things, huh?”

“Richmond is full of restaurants.  It’s a very bohemian city, so there’s lots of different types of food offered there.  I’ve started trying new restaurants and new cuisines.”

“Ok, so what’s the best thing you’ve ever put in your mouth?”

“Um…. There’s a place in Williamsburg called Le Yaca.  It’s a French restaurant that actually came from France.  I think the original is still in France.  But their food is sinfully good.  Their bread is amazing.  I love their French Onion Soup and their house salad.  But they have this dish called la crêpe au crabe.  It’s fresh crab meat and béchamel sauce with Swiss cheese and sometimes there’s vegetables all wrapped in a crêpe.  It’s so good it’s made my eyes mist just thinking about it.”

“I think I might have to break my diet for that next week.”

“I think you might have to, too.  It’s not my favorite restaurant, though.  That title belongs to Pattis in Grand Rivers, Kentucky.  I’ve been going there since I was a baby.  I always get excited when I see the signs for it on the interstate.”

“It’s funny.  You really don’t strike me as someone from a small town.”

She laughed. “Well, I am.  I almost fell into the small town life.  Like a good small town girl, I had a boyfriend from seventh grade all the way until the summer before senior year.  At Christmas in our junior year, he proposed to me and I said yes because I did love him.  But a year and a half before that I had moved to Virginia and it was definitely changing me.  When I went back home in summer, I broke it off because I didn’t want to get married at eighteen.  I really didn’t want to move back to a small town with bad memories and he wouldn’t move away because he was inheriting his parent’s very successful real estate company.  But if I had chosen to go back, I would’ve been a really young mother with a white picket fence and a dog.”

“Do you regret giving that up?”

She smiled. “Not in the slightest.  If I had, I wouldn’t be sitting in Boston with someone I admire cooking for me and wanting to spend a ridiculous amount of time with me.”

Chris smiled brightly and she fought the urge to get up and pin him against the counter with a fiery kiss.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

After dinner, which had been delicious, they relaxed on the sofa.  The bottle of wine was nearly empty now.  It was sitting on the coffee table next to her wine glass.  The conversation between them had flowed easily and the silence that was surrounding them now was peaceful.  They had tried to find a movie to watch, but nothing had really jumped out at them.  Her legs were stretched out in front of her and resting on Chris’s lap where he’d placed them.  His hands ran lightly up and down her jean clad shins absentmindedly.

It was Chris who finally broke the silence. “So, what should we do tomorrow?”

“The whale watching trip sounds like fun.  I’ve never done that.  And I’d like to visit the U.S.S. Constitution.”

“Sounds like fun to me.”

“Chris, do you want to go to the game with me Thursday?  Since I have the extra ticket.”

He smiled at her. “Yeah.  I’d love to go to the game with you.  Let’s make sure the people in front of us don’t have a cell phone, though.”

“Good idea.”

“Hey, nothing crazy happened today.”

“I thought for sure I’d end up at least tripping and falling into the penguin habitat.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t have minded.”

“Nope.  I’d have found a way to sneak one of them out.”

“Cap would’ve had a friend.”

“Well, it’s ok.  He’ll have plenty of other friends at home.”

“You have lots of stuffed penguins?”

“I have lots of stuffed animals.  He’ll probably end up with Captain Bearica.”

Chris laughed. “Captain Bearica?”

“When I was back home this past June, my best friend Amanda and I took her son David, my ‘nephew’ to the Zoo and to the Science Museum in St. Louis.  They have a Build A Bear on the bottom floor and he begged to go in there.  He wouldn’t make a bear until I’d picked one out for myself.  They had one Captain America bear left, so I grabbed him and I named him Captain Bearica.  He hangs out with Thumper from ‘Bambi’.”

“Awe!  I love Thumper.”

“Me too.  My Thumper is old.  I’ve had him since I was a baby.  He’s been thoroughly loved.”

“I have a stuffed Copper from when I was a baby.”

“From ‘Fox and the Hound’?”

Chris smiled brightly. “Yeah!  Good guess.”

“I told you I’m a Disney fan.”

“I’m getting that.”

She smiled and noticed that the tattoo on his chest was peeking out from his open henley shirt.  Without thinking, she reached over and ran a finger across it. “What does it say?”

“My tattoo?” She nodded. “‘When you lose touch with inner stillness, you lose touch with yourself.  When you lose touch with yourself, you lose yourself in the world.’  It’s a quote by Eckhart Tolle.”

“Pretty.  And very insightful.”

“Thank you.  It’s just a little reminder to myself.”

“I have one of those.” She lifted her left leg and pulled the leg of her jeans up, twisting it to reveal a tattoo on the lower part of her shin just above the ankle.  Around a four-leaf clover, it read “Tomorrow is another day.” “It has different levels of meaning to me.”

Chris traced the tattoo with his finger. “‘Gone With the Wind.’”

“It’s my favorite movie.  I try to watch it at least once a year.  I got to see it on the big screen for the first time ever last year and I completely lost my shit.  I didn’t even make it to the opening credits before I started sobbing.  The music swelled and I was lost.  My mom thought it was hilarious.  It’s also the very last line of the book, which I love, and a way to tell myself to be as strong as Scarlet was.  Because she was right.  It may be hard and you feel completely hopeless today, but there’s always tomorrow to deal with it.”

He looked up at her and was smiling brightly. “You’re incredible.”

She smiled back. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Tag List:

@joannaliceevans-fanficblog @jamielea81 @southerngracela @kelbabyblue @introvertedmouse @tfandtws @sullyosully @deidrahouseofpain @lovinevans

[worldsbywings]

Angie’s Galar Adventure, Part 1!

Oh boy, what a busy few days it’s been! Sorry I haven’t checked in yet; things just kept happening and happening and happening. And did I mention happening?

For those who don’t know (meaning everyone besides my parents), my trip to Galar actually involves staying with a host family, to make the transition from Kalosian culture to Galarian a little smoother. And boy has it still been a bit jarring. As much as I love her, it doesn’t help that my ‘host family’ is a single woman named Alexis living way out in rural southern Galar. Specifically, Postwick.

It’s pretty countryside, but going from Lumiose to Postwick...yeah. Culture shock.

There’s this kid who lives nearby, named Hop. He’s a bit younger than me, but I like his spirit. He kinda helped me adjust. My one complaint is that he’s constantly talking about his brother, Leon, who’s the Champion of Galar.

At first I was especially annoyed, but after watching some of his battles on TV, I get why he admires him so much.

So naturally, imagine my excitement when I heard Leon was coming back to Postwick for a little visit! Hop and I even went over to the train station in Wedgehurst (just down the road) to escort him home, because apparently he’s absolutely hopeless with directions. There was a whole crowd waiting for him and everything!

But that’s not even the best part! I guess Hop told him about me, too, and how I was hoping to become a trainer, and he brought us Pokémon! There was a Sobble, a Grookey, and a Scorbunny.

Naturally, I picked Scorbunny; gotta love that passion and energy. Hop picked Grookey, and Leon took Sobble. But does he really need one?? Anyways, I nicknamed my Scorbunny Champ.

We ended that day with a little party, and I went home to dream about my journey.

Except, when I woke up the next day, something got in the way of that. See, I didn’t mention that there’s off-limits area nearby called the Slumbering Weald. It’s a forest of some sort, but it’s just...weird. Not safe, supposedly. But when I woke up, the gate was wide open, and there were Wooloo tracks in the dirt. Hop and I couldn’t just leave the Wooloo to wander such a dangerous area by itself, and it would take too long to go get Leon, so we decided to go in. We had Pokémon, after all.

The Slumbering Weald is honestly kind of creepy, and that’s coming from someone like me. I’m not scared of anything. But it was foggy, and uncomfortably quiet. We got attacked by a few Pokémon on the way, but thankfully nothing we couldn’t handle...at first, at least.

But as we got deeper and it got foggier, we stopped to make sure we hadn’t gotten separated...and something came out of the fog. A giant dog of some sort, that I’d never seen before. It just sort of stared at us, and when we tried to attack it, the attacks just went through. It wouldn’t let us go any farther in, either, and the fog started to get even thicker. Somewhere in the panic, I guess Hop and I both passed out.

I didn’t tell Hop this, because I didn’t want to explain my family and everything so shortly after meeting him, but...I think the dog was a Legendary. It had that air about it-and trust me, I know the air of a Legendary Pokémon. I better know it.

Leon managed to come find us, and when we woke up the fog had cleared (I can’t imagine Leon trying to find us in that fog, considering his poor sense of direction). The two of us were just so flabbergasted about everything that we just went home and went to bed.

The whole thing was weighing on my mind all night, and even when I woke up the next day. That’s not normal for me. But I managed to smile and fake it for Alexis, who had a gift for me: pokéballs. She said now that I have my own Pokémon, I should have no problems going into the tall grass to challenge and catch more Pokémon-and to come on back home if I needed healing or anything.

I went over to Hop’s house, only to find him and Leon in the front yard, arguing about something. And as I got closer, I found out it was about the Gym Challenge.

See, unlike back home, the Gym Challenge here is a yearly event, and do compete, you need an endorsement. Hop was trying to talk his brother into endorsing him, and naturally I got dragged into it. Not that I’m complaining; I was 100% on Hop’s side. That’s the whole fucking reason I came to Galar in the first place!

Sorry, got a little fired up there.

Leon told us we should get started with a Pokédex first, which we could get from a woman named Sonia in Wedgehurst. He said he would think about it.

Honestly...most of that morning I spent catching Pokémon. I caught a whole party’s worth with the pokéballs Alexis gave me. Of them, I especially liked the Nickit I caught, named Rogue, and a Rookidee I named Rosalee.

...This is getting kinda long, isn’t it? Guess I’m my mother’s daughter.

Let’s speed this up.

Met Sonia, who was apparently Leon’s rival on their own Gym Challenge. She put the Pokédex on my phone, but told me I should go see her grandmother, Professor Magnolia. Which I did,catching more Pokémon on the way

Professor Magnolia was a sweet old woman, who was shocked that Leon wouldn’t endorsement me and Hop. She talked him in to watching us battle to prove ourselves. Between Rosalee and Champ, it wasn’t much of a battle, but it was enough to convince Leon.

Just as Leon was giving us our letters of endorsement, something came falling from the sky, landing super near us! Apparently they were two Wishing Stars. The Professor took them from us, and we all went home for the night.

The next day, Professor Magnolia presented both me and Hop each with something called a Dynamax Band. She talked a little bit about it, but...I really didn’t understand. It all went over my head. I guess it’s kinda like Mega Evolving?

Anyways, with our Pokédexs and letters of endorsement, and after saying goodbye to our families, Hop and I took the train to Motostoke to participate in the Gym Challenge ceremony.

...Or we would have, if there weren’t a bunch of Wooloo blocking the way.

Instead, we stopped at the station right outside of something called the Wild Area. Apparently it’s like a really, really big route, with dramatic weather changes and some strong Pokémon. But Motostoke was right on the other side, Hop and I went our separate ways, agreeing to meet back up in the city. See, Hop wanted to get down to business, but me? I wanted to catch some Pokémon. Especially since I was gifted camping gear (although, given the ceremony is tomorrow, I haven’t had the chance to use it).

Still, I got there eventually, and Sonia and Hop were waiting for me. Hop ran off again (that kid, I swear), but Sonia gave me directions to the stadium, where (after stopping for a little clothes shopping) I met back up with my quirky rival.

I guess this is the first time Leon’s ever endorsed anyone? Because people were already talking about us as we registered. There were all sorts of people there, of all ages, but there was this one kid that really stood out. Had this asshole-ish, holier-than-thou air about him. Bragged about how Chairman Rose (basically the man who makes everything run here) endorsed him.

All the competitors were given rooms in this hotel nearby called the Budew Inn. It’s pretty ritzy, but when we got there, there were these kinda obnoxious people in front of the front counter, and no one could get their keys. They called themselves Team Yell, and claimed they were here to support a trainer named Marnie.

I couldn’t help myself. I started a fight with them. Look, it was a long day, okay? Hop even joined in.

And then, Marnie showed up and told them all off, missing all the action. I don’t know what to think of her yet, but she didn’t seem bad I guess. Like I said, I was tired.

That was just a few hours ago, and honestly I’m still tired. I’m ready to sleep. The Gym Challenge Opening Ceremony is tomorrow, so I guess I should call it a night.

But yeah, like I said, I’ve been busy.

Angie out.

--

Current Team:

Champ the Raboot, level 16

Rouge the Nickit, level 14

Grumpy the Chewtle, level 7

Rosalee the Rookidee, level 14

Darling the Yamper, level 11

Baron the Wooloo, level 12