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flamencodiva · 4 years

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Getting Back to You 2 - Forgive Me

Description: Amaya Campos and Dean Winchester had a playful rivalry. what happens when Dean is no longer her Dean. Will this change make one of them realize what they really desire, or will they continue to keep secrets?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Amaya Campos (Original Female Character) , AU Dean Winchester x AU Amaya Campos

Warnings: Language, Violence, Smut, Fluff, Angst

Word Count For Series: 100K+ words

Beta: @superfanficnatural

Book Cover by @talesmaniac89

A/N: Special thanks to - @crashdevlin @atc74 @smol-and-grumpy @winchest09 @waywardbeanie @deanwanddamons @malfoysqueen14 @emoryhemsworth @janicho88 @jensengirl83 @whatareyousearchingfordean @katehuntington @anathewierdo and to all my friends who listen to me ramble about my writing. your words of encouragement mean the world to me! Without you I don’t think I could have found the courage to come back and share what I love most to do, WRITE.

A/N 2: SURPRISE! Decided to post it early so I hope you guys enjoy!

Getting Back To You Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Amaya placed her box on the bed. She had just finished moving into the Bunker permanently, taking room 20 for herself. Being right next to Sam made things easier when Dean was just down the hall.

"Is that all you got?"

Dean's voice made her jump towards him before a small wave of relief washed over her face.

"I mean, what more do I need, right?" she shrugged. "Almost everything I own is either in my duffle or in a storage unit."

"You could always move it here," Dean offered. "How does a nice night out at a bar sound?"

"It sounds good," she breathed. "Could use the time to get plastered before beating you at another bet."

"Oh, sweetheart," Dean licked his lips before crossing his arms. "That witch hunt was just a fluke. I'll win the next one, just you wait."

"Yeah, yeah," Amaya waved him off as she grabbed a few of her clothes and made her way to the bathroom they all had to share. "I'm going to shower and change. I'll meet you in half an hour?"

"Yeah, sounds good," Dean walked with her to the bathroom and placed his hand on her shoulder, making her look up at him.

"Yeah?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

"I figure," he cleared his throat, "we can eat someplace before we get down to drinking."

"Sure," she nodded her head. "Sam joining us?"

"I'm sure I can persuade him," Dean smiled.

With a laugh, Amaya walked inside and closed the door. Dean could hear the soft click of the lock before he turned around and made his way to Sam's room. Running a hand across his face, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The witch hunt seemed a little too easy for his liking. Lifting his fist, he was about to knock when Sam abruptly opened the door.

"No," was all his brother said.

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask," Dean argued.

"You were going to ask if I would come out with you and Amaya," Sam crossed his arms and leaned on the door frame.

Dean scoffed and gave his brother his best bitch face, "Was not. I mean, eventually, I would have, but I was going to ask if that witch hunt seemed a little too easy."

"Yeah, sure," Sam shook his head. "When it comes to the hunt—" Sam rubbed his hand across his stubbled cheek, "I'm looking into the incantation the witches were chanting. So far, I've been able to translate part of it."

"So, what were you able to translate?" Dean moved aside as Sam walked out of his room and made his way to the kitchen.

"Not much," Sam grabbed the notepad from the kitchen table as his eyes looked over his writing. "What I've translated so far is," he gave a slight squint "’We call upon the ancient powers, to hear our call, feel our power. Across time and space, let the souls switch.’"

Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother as he thought about the words, "’Let the souls switch?’ Which souls?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to keep looking into it," Sam grabbed a mug and poured himself a drink. "Dean, just wing it, or pick up a chick and have fun with Amaya like you always do."

"Sam," Dean sighed, "You know why I keep my distance. This life—" he ran a hand across his face, "this life is not easy, and the last thing I need is another stain on my soul. I don't need guilt when I can't protect her."

"She's not like your other loves, Dean," Sam pointed out. "She's a hunter. She was born a hunter. We’ve known her our whole lives. Dean, she's a legacy like us." Sam grabbed another folder he had out on the table and showed it to his brother, "Her grandfather was a Man of Letters just like ours."

"What?" Dean found the name of Amaya's grandfather highlighted by Sam, with a detailed explanation of his death.

"So just like our Dad," Sam sighed. "Amaya's dad lost his dad the same way. He was killed by Abaddon."

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat at learning the information. He looked at Sam; he knew his brother was right. Amaya wasn't like Cassie or Lisa, she was a hunter; she knew the risks, knew what the job entailed. Then again, so was Jo, but unlike Amaya, he remembered Jo came in late into the hunting game. She may have been a hunter, but she hadn’t really lived the life long enough, and could he really see his best friend and rival get hurt in his arms? It was bad enough when he was keeping his distance, but in revealing his feelings he felt it would just make it worse. He was already worried about her, how much would that change if he let himself feel what he'd been bottling up? Besides, all three of his relationships had something in common: they’d all loved him, and he loved them. In some form or another, he brought bad luck upon the many women he loved.

"Hey," Amaya's voice cut through his thoughts as the sound of her heels echoed in the kitchen. "We ready to go?"

Dean felt his breath get caught in his throat at how she dressed. She stood in her skin tight jeans that hugged her legs with a tube top and fishnet shirt combo that showed off her toned stomach and her perfect breasts. Her leather jacket hung on her shoulders as she stood to almost Dean's height in her four-inch black heels.

"Uhhhh—" Dean lost the use of his voice as he looked at her. His jeans felt a little tighter as he imagined peeling off all of her clothes.

Sam walked up and slapped Dean upside the head, making the older man glare at his younger brother.

"Dean's ready to go," Sam took a sip of his drink. "I'm staying in to try and make sense of the spell that the witches were conjuring."

"Oh Sammy," She walked over to him and gave him a gentle pat on his cheek. "If you don't use it, you will lose it."

Dean chuckled, the sass coming from Amaya snapping him out of his daze.

"She's right, Sam," Dean rolled his shoulders and winked at Amaya. "You don't use what you got, it might just shrivel up, much like all the rabbit food you don't eat that ends up going bad."

"Hey," Sam frowned as he gave Amaya his bitch face. "Just because I don't go out with you two—" he pointed to his brother and Amaya, "doesn't mean I don't get any. I just know how to keep you two from finding out."

Dean cleared his throat and adjusted himself. With a roll of his shoulders, he walked up to his brother and Amaya.

"Well, let's leave Sammy here to keep hitting the books," Dean said as he put his hands in his pockets. He stopped himself from touching Amaya, scared that he would do something they would both regret.

"Lead the way Dean-o," she chuckled, giving his shoulder a slight punch before standing aside to let him walk first.

Back in the other Universe, Henry Winchester surveyed the damage done by Hecate. He looked at his grandsons, who were assessing the best course of action. With a deep breath, he walked over to them.

"It seems this was all planned out," Henry said as he placed his hands in the pockets of his suit as he walked towards the trio.

"We are sorry, sir," Amaya apologized immediately as she stood straight, ignoring the feel of the sticky liquid seeping through her clothes.

"Amaya," Dean's voice sounded surprised as he saw the large gash on her side. "Infirmary, now."

"I'm fine," she waved him off as Henry came closer to them.

"Amaya—" Dean began.

"Dije que estoy bien," she growled and looked at him. "If anyone should be in the infirmary, it's you. You have a large gash on your head and multiple lacerations on your arms and chest."

Dean had to smirk at what she noticed. They had been hunting since they were both sixteen, thrust together at the academy they were both now instructors in. Looking at his grandfather, Dean could tell the old man was not in the least bit angry. This was just another curveball in the hunting game.

"Both of you head down to the infirmary and have Eileen look after the pair of you," Henry ordered be for he turned his attention to Sam. "Is there anything from the video feed from before we stormed the warehouse that we can use to investigate?"

"I have my team looking into it," Sam said as he looked around. "So far, they were able to stay hidden from the camera angle. I have no idea how that happened."

"I need you to work on it while they recover," Henry sighed and looked between Amaya and Dean. "Speaking of recovering—" he used his cane to walk over to them. "You two, infirmary now! I am going to be grounding you from hunts until you heal completely."

"Yes sir," they echoed. Both of them giving each other a slight glare.

A few hours and a couple of stitches later, Dean and Amaya had made their way to their apartment, where a happy German Shepherd greeted them.

"Zep," Dean warned, "Down."

The dog gave a slight whine as he stopped his motions and laid down by the couch.

"That's our good boy, Zep," Amaya praised as she gave the dog a generous pat on his head.

"You going to tell me why you refused to head to the infirmary when I told you to?" Dean asked as he grabbed a beer from the fridge, looking at his fiancée.

"Easy," she said and gave him a slight shrug. "I was perfectly fine. I was more concerned with you and the fact that we are now dealing with a goddess."

"Amaya," Dean sighed as he made his way to her.

He held her hand in his before pulling her to him, her body between his legs as he sat on one of the bar stools. Setting the beer down, he used his now free hand to cup her face.

"Dean," she whispered as he brought her forehead against his.

"I know you are strong, but we have had one too many close calls between us," Dean admitted and lifted his head slightly as he placed feather kisses along her face, avoiding her lips.

"Tease," she whispered before his lips crashed into hers in a heated kiss.

The world seemed to stop around them as Dean pressed her body flush against his. He would give anything to stay with her, but Hecate's words resonated in his mind. She had warned him that he had time to be with Amaya, but how much time did he have left?

Dean moved his lips down her jaw towards her ear. He nipped at her earlobe, before moving down to kiss the sweet spot on her neck. It was the one Dean knew drove her wild. He smirked against her skin when she let out a low, lust-filled moan.

"I don't ever want to lose you, Amaya," Dean muttered against her skin as he pulled her blouse open. The buttons flew across the room.

"You're lucky I have about fifty of these," she moaned, raking her fingers through his hair as he kissed down to the valley between her breasts.

His face nestles deep between them as he left open mouth kisses along her skin. Reaching behind her, he undid the clasp of her bra, freeing her bosom from its constricting grip. Amaya sucked in a sharp breath as his lips sealed around her nipple, his tongue licking as his mouth sucked gently on it. Her fingers moved from his head to his shirt. Quickly unbuttoning his shirt, she let her fingers caress his shoulder as it's removed from its owner and tossed on the floor.

"Always knew you were a boob man," Amaya teased as she pulled his face away from her chest, bringing her lips towards his in a searing kiss.

It didn't take long before Dean had Amaya wholly naked and on the island counter of their kitchen, his head between her legs, tongue lapping up at her juices. The sounds she was making were music to his ears. She was tart and sweet all at the same time as his lips surrounded her clit, sucking on her pulsating nub. Her fingers pulling at his hair just the way he liked it.

"Shit, babe," she moaned. "Your tongue feels so good. You are a damn god with it."

Dean smirked against her wet core as he moved to press his fingers into her. She was nice and warm, making his cock throb against his pants. He continued his ministrations, feasting on her pussy as she pulled at his short hairs. The taste of her driving him wild as he felt her walls flutter as her orgasm hit.

"Fuck," She cursed. Her legs quivered as Dean helped her ride through it.

Amaya hadn't come down from her euphoric high when he undid his belt and made quick work of removing his pants. Dean pumped himself a few times as he looked at her dripping cunt. The sight made him moan before he eased his tip into her.

"Shit, Amaya," he breathed and caressed her cheek before pulling her in for a kiss. "Your pussy feels so good."

"Dean," she whispered. Her fingernails scratching at his back as he thrust his hips. "Fuck," she gasped just as she felt the anticipation build-up.

"You going to cum again, Baby? Going to coat my cock with your cum?" he growled as he snaked his hand between them. His thumb found her clit drawing small circles on the sensitive nub.

"Dean," she moaned, her nails digging into his back as she fluttered around him.

Her legs shook as she orgasmed. Dean grunted and groaned as he snapped his hips, skin on skin echoing around the apartment. Zep looked at his owners, fucking on the counter, head tilted, watching as his owners moved as one. Meanwhile, Dean dug his fingers into Amaya's hips, leaving marks on her skin. She loved it when he marked her as it sent her over the edge again, just feeling his possessive nature, the sensation of him never wanting to let her go. At the same time, she pulled him close to her, her own fingers digging into his flesh, the fear of losing him surfacing in her thoughts. And yet, the sound he made as she rolled his hips brought her out of the negative haze. He felt perfect inside her, filled her just right.

Dean gave another groan as his hips met hers. His lips kissed along any skin he could reach, the smell of her lavender perfume calming him as the image of the ruble almost crushing her tried to push their way through. He couldn’t lose her, couldn’t even imagine what his life would be like without her. He could feel her walls clenching around him again and he gave one last grunt before he came, filling her to the brim with his seed. His mouth devoured hers as he stayed buried inside her until he began to soften.

"Fuck, baby," Dean chuckled. "We need to go on assignment more often."

Amaya playfully slapped his shoulder. "Going on assignment has nothing to do with our chemistry."

Dean helped her off the counter, placing her gently in front of him, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her in for another deep kiss.

"I love you, Amaya," he muttered against her lips. "If anything happens to me, you move on, okay?"

"Hey, where did this come from?" she pulled back to look into his green eyes.

"Just— just something that the goddess said," Dean looked down at the floor. "She mentioned that I need to spend my time with you wisely and—"

"Nothing is going to happen to you," Amaya held on to his face. "Sam will figure out what the witches were up to."

"This is something we've never dealt with before," Dean said as he cupped her face and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "If anything were to happen, if you can't fix it— just let me go?"

"Fat chance," Amaya scoffed. "No way in hell I am ever giving up on getting you back, Dean. Now, let's forget about this, go to bed, and in the morning we teach the future hunters of tomorrow."

Dean took in a deep breath, gazing deeply into her eyes. He could feel himself taking in all her features: the shape of her face, the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled, how her hair framed her face. He pulled her in for another heated kiss. Their tongues clashed as he lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he began to feel aroused again.

"Babe," she muttered against his lips.

"Can't help it, Sweetheart," he teased with a smirk "I'm hot for teacher."

The sound of her laughter filled the apartment, followed by Dean's soft chuckle. The night was spent with laughs and moans echoing in their home. Before long, both hunters were asleep in each other's arms.

Dean awoke sometime later, not able to sleep anymore. Amaya's soft snores filled the room. Looking down at her, he gently moved her hair out of her face. He smiled a bit when she leaned into his touch. He remembered when he first met Amaya. Her grandfather had brought her to the academy, she was thirteen at the time. Dean had decided that she was probably a snooty spoiled princess, but in the end, Amaya had him on his back as she straddled him, blade at his throat. It was one of his fondest memories. After that, he had tried to always one-up Amaya, but every time he found himself on his back, it made him want her even more. She was independent, smart, and always called him out on his shit. Glancing at the clock, he sighed when he realized he woke up before their alarm. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he gently moved away from her, careful not to wake Amaya. He could hear Zep whining as he made his way to the kitchen to start brewing their coffee. As he set the timer for the coffee to brew, he looked over at Zep, who lay by the sliding glass door to be let out to their tiny backyard.

"Okay, okay," Dean groaned and gave a small smile as he gave Zep a pat on the head before letting the dog out to do his business.

Leaning against the open door frame, he watched as Zep moved around the small plot of land to find the right spot to mark. He never noticed Amaya had woken up. With Zep coming in, Dean turned to see Amaya holding out his favorite mug filled with coffee.

"I see you woke up before the alarm today," she breathed before she caressed his cheek before planting a kiss on his lips.

"What can I say," he acknowledged and gave a soft shrug. "I was anxious to get back in the classroom."

"Eso lo llamo mierda," Amaya scoffed. ( I call that bullshit.)

"What?" Dean mocked as he wrapped his arms around her. "I love my classes. The kids are into learning all the strategies for a good hunt. They’re working on what to look for when hunting a ghost. I think they're ready to move on to poltergeists."

"Really?" she probed while she raised an eyebrow at her fiancé. "Well, My advanced lore kids are already moving up to Demons and Latin incantations," she let her fingers dance across his chest.

"Well, you do have the students that tested into research," Dean reminded her before capturing her lips with his.

"Si seguimos, vamos a estar tarde," she whispered. (If we keep going, we're going to be late.)

Dean groaned. He hated it when she was right.

"Me voy a vestir," he sighed and pressed his forehead against hers. "I also have wrestling try-outs to oversee this afternoon." (I’m going to get dressed.)

"Just don't pop your stitches coach," She chuckled and gave him a playful slap on his ass as he walked back to the room to get dressed for work.

Back in the original universe, Dean looked over at Amaya as he drove them to the local dive bar. He glanced every now and then towards her. The way she bobbed her head to the music made him smile. He was finding it harder and harder to find an excuse to stay away from her. If he pulled away too much, he was risking hurting her as a friend, but if he didn't hold himself back, he’d slip up, and she could be cursed with dying all because he was in love with her.

"So," she broke the deafening silence. "How are we doing this?"

"Doing what?" Dean questioned as he shifted in his seat, driving with one hand on the wheel while the other was casually resting on the open window frame.

"Well," Amaya began and rolled her shoulders, trying to relieve the tension in them. "Que vamos hacer? (What are we doing?) Are we going to hook up with different people? Are we going to hustle some frat boys at pool? I mean, what's the game plan?"

"I was thinking just," Dean trailed off a bit and licked his lips, "drinking and hanging out."

Amaya raised her eyebrow at him, "Okay, what is going on? You usually want to have the hottest girl at the bar hanging all over you."

Dean parked the car and turned to her. He didn't have a chance to continue before she was out of the car waiting for him. Getting out, he jogged slightly towards her.

"What can I say," he sighed and gave a slight shrug. "What if, just for tonight, we stress relief together. No strings."

"No strings?" Amaya asked and opened the door to the bar and made her way to the counter. She sat on the barstool and ordered herself two red-headed slut shots for herself and whiskey for Dean. "I can handle that."

"I know it's—wait, what?!" Dean snapped his head in her direction as she knocked back her shot. "You-you are okay with what I suggested?"

"Yeah, porque no?" Amaya shrugged. "I mean, what do we have to lose, right? I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Who better to make me feel good than the meat man," she smirked.

"Oh, fuck, Amaya! You are not going to let that go are you," Dean knocked his own shot back before slamming the glass on the bar top. It was something that Dean had let slip out on a drunken tirade, he had heard it from someone and figured it described him perfectly. After all, he was a guy who did love eating meat, and then Amaya had to look up the term on Urban Dictionary and laugh at how he used it. "How about we play some pool, hustle some money and then have some," Dean licked his lips before leaning in and stealing a kiss from Amaya, "fun."

Amaya bit her bottom lip when he pulled away. Her brown eyes gazed into his green ones. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She had always dreamed of this but never acted on it. She knew the risks, but she had to keep her feelings in check.

"Bueno, que estas esperando?" (Well, what are you waiting for?) She downed her second shot and looked at him. "If we're going to do this, you need to learn to relax. Besides, it's not the first time we've fucked, remember?" she let her fingers dance along with his shirt. "Gringo, let's see how much money we can make."

Dean let out a chuckle, reminiscing about the time they had a few drinks after a celebrated wolf hunt. Three drinks turned into a make-out session in the alley, followed by stumbling into her room, then a glorious night of fucking until the sun came up. When he woke up, she was gone and left a note that said thanks for the help and stress relief.

Dean shook out his thoughts as she pulled away and walked towards the pool tables, her hips swaying. Dean tilted his head, watching her leave. He licked his lips, wondering what it would be like to have her ass bouncing on his cock. Shaking the thought out of his head, he made his way to her as they picked out the best suckers to hustle. It didn't take long to find some frat boys who were too tipsy for their own good.

"Hey Mama," one of them said, "Why don't you ditch this guy and hang out with us?"

"We can really make you see stars. Besides, you're Latina, right?" The other one interjected. "I'm sure we can make a mean salsa in the bedroom."

Amaya bit her cheek from lashing out and giggled stiffly. "Ay Gringo," she shook her head. "Dudo que vas a poder a hacerme ver estrellas." (I doubt you can make me see stars.) Amaya walked up to one of them, her knife concealed before placing it on his crotch. "The only guy making me see stars or as you put it, helping me make a mean salsa in the bedroom…" she tilted her head, "is the guy I'm with. Entendiste?" (Understand?)

The frat boy nodded while his friend seemed to swallow a lump in his throat. With that settled, Dean and Amaya wiped the floor with the frat boys making off with at least $5,000. With a laugh, Amaya and Dean made their way to the Impala. Dean pressed her up against the passenger door. His fingers found their way under her fishnet top, squeezing her hip.

Amaya moaned into his kiss, "Papi," (Daddy) she whispered. "You gonna make me feel good, Winchester?"

"Oh, it's a promise, Campos," Dean said as he gave her a devilish grin.

The drive back to the Bunker was filled with teasing and moans. Dean's cock was rock hard as Amaya teased him. Amaya's panties soaked through her pants as Dean teased her with what he was going to do to her. The minute the car was parked in the garage, Amaya climbed onto Dean's lap straddling him.

"Amaya," he breathed. "We should move this to my room."

"Y que? (And what?) Give up a chance to make out like teenagers in a sexy car?" she grinned before nipping at his earlobe. "Tienes miedo?"

"M--Mi-eh-dough?" Dean raised an eyebrow at her.

"You scared?" Amaya clarified with a roll of her eyes.

Dean scoffed as he removed her leather jacket from her shoulders, revealing her fishnet top with her tube top under it. "I'm not… are you not wearing a bra?"

"Wow," Amaya chuckled. "That's one way to distract you." she smiled before capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

"Fuck, Maya," Dean placed his hands on either side of her face. "You are as sexy as fuck."

"Tell me something I don't know," she sassed.

With a sly smile, she rolled her hips, pressing up against his erection. She could feel Dean take in a sharp breath before pulling away from her, pupils lust blown as he tried to control himself.

"I really want to take you to my room Maya, please?" He found himself begging.

"En Español," she teased.

"Campos, don't ruin the mood!" Dean growled as he reached into her shirt, squeezing her breast. His thumb rolling over her erect nipple.

"Español, Winchester," she reiterated, grabbing at his short hair, giving it a tug, earning a strangled moan from the hunter.

"Pour Fa-vour," he groaned.

"Nice accent," she teased. "Since you asked so nicely and even said please."

As quick as lightning, she had gotten off his lap and out of the car. Dean stayed shocked for a minute before jumping out after her. By the time he reached room eleven, he had found her in just her panties lying on his bed, legs sprawled. Her fingers played with her clit through her panties. Dean stood there, mouth slightly open at the sight of her fingering herself, her moans, music to his ears.

"Que esperas, gringo?" (What are you waiting for, whiteboy?) she smiled as she ran a hand along her breast, pinching her nipple between her fingers.

"Fuck Amaya," Dean pulled off his jacket and flannel in one swoop.

His hand worked on his belt before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper. By then, Amaya had shimmied out of her underwear, giving him a good view of her glistening heat. Dean had let out a low growl before licking his lips and striding towards her. His head buried between her legs as he flattened his tongue against her opening.

"Fuck, Dean!" she hissed when he began sucking on her clit. "You really know how to drive a girl loca."

Dean chuckled against her entrance before plunging his tongue into her dripping hole along with his fingers, curling them as she squirmed against him. He let out a moan when Amaya ran her fingers through his hair, giving it a short tug.

"Someone loves their hair pulled," Amaya moaned as his fingers curled and pressed on her g-spot. "Papi, dame lo todo."

"Want me to give you everything, huh?" Dean chuckled. "I'll give it to you… Mami."

Amaya gasps as he continued his ministrations. The coil in her belly snapping as she came on his mouth and fingers. Dean lapping up at her juices, making her moan and scream some more as he made her cum a second time. Amaya had just started to come down from her high when Dean thrust into her waiting cunt.

Their bodies moving as one as they swallowed each other's moans and screams in a heated kiss. They both chased their release, holding and nipping at one another as Dean's thrusts stilled as he spilled into her. Amaya's thighs shook with her own orgasm as she pulled Dean close to her body. Dean groaned as he fell next to her, holding her tight.

"That was nice," he chuckled.

"Yeah," Amaya sighed. "Sleep time."

"Night, Maya," Dean kissed the top of her head.

"Night, Gringo," she whispered.

Dean made sure that Amaya was sleeping before looking down at her. Closing his eyes, he made his decision. Dean had to keep her safe, even if it meant breaking her heart just a bit. Moving the stray hairs out of her face, he leaned in and gave her one last kiss on her temple.

"Forgive me, Maya. I just can't have you put in danger because of me," holding her close, he drifted off to sleep none the wiser at what the witches spell had in store for him.

Chapter 3

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phoneboxfairy · 5 years

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A Dance of Stars - Undercover Dancer 2 (1/5)

(I lied. Thanks to @random-rave for the concept, outline, etc etc. Chapter 2 should be up in a couple weeks.) ao3 link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/22918666/chapters/54782566 Magnolia Magic Police Department, lunch time.

The city was going through a rather slow time crime-wise, with only a few reports on minor incidents needing to be dealt with lately. The same thing happened every spring, with more people focusing on enjoying the weather than breaking the law.

That’s why Lucy sat at her desk flipping through an intimidating pile of paperwork while she munched on her chef’s salad. Her brow was furrowed, and she was so caught up in her reading that she didn’t even notice movement at the desk next to hers.

Specifically, she didn’t see Natsu wheel his chair over until his warm hand was massaging her shoulder.

“What’s up, babe?”

“Hey, Natsu. I’m just looking over financial stuff for the wedding and honeymoon. I never realized how expensive this stuff was...” Heavy sigh. Gentle shoulder squeeze.

“Don’t worry. We’ll figure somethin’ out, even if it takes a while.”

“You’re right. Thanks.”

“Hey, no problem.” His words and the swift kiss that followed made her feel a lot better.

Unfortunately their kiss was interrupted when Cana walked in.

“You guys still sorting out money stuff?”

“Yeah...” Lucy let out a sigh. Natsu squeezed her shoulder again. Cana grinned, this sneaky gleam in her eye. “Why? What are you up to?”

“Oh darling, I’m not up to anything. I just had a little idea that could help you out, that’s all.”

“…Idea?”

“Yep! Given certain past assignments, I think you’d be a natural.” Cana winked. Lucy’s face went bright red. Natsu just looked clueless.

“Does this...idea of yours have anything to do with your boyfriend’s club?”

“Only everything, smart girl.” Lucy wailed. Cana rolled her eyes. “Don’t give me that. We all know you had fun dancing last time, and we’ve all seen the videos. You’re damn good at it.”

“She’s phenomenal at it.” Another shoulder squeeze, this one rather amorous. Lucy knew full well what Natsu thought of her dancing.

“Anyway, Bacchus’s club is co-ed, and he’s always looking for new talent…” The lovebirds glanced at each other. Lucy bit her lip, not sure what to do or say or even think about this suggestion.

That was when Natsu broke the silence.

“We could at least give it a try.”

“I guess...wait. What do you mean we, Natsu?”

“Well this is our future we’re talkin’ about. I wanna help.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Duh, for us.”

“I’m sure Bacchus will let you two audition no problem, but only if you want to.” Cana sat at her desk, filing her nail as she waited for a response.

Lucy thought for a moment, eyes on Natsu the whole time. Then…

“Let’s do it.”

Cana looked mighty pleased with the whole turn of events. Natsu hugged Lucy, clearly thrilled that she was all for this plan.

Lucy smiled...but she knew one thing:

They had a lot of work to do.

~~~ Casual dancing as part of an undercover assignment was not the same as stripping with the intention to earn money. Lucy knew that, and also knew she would have to up her dancing game if she wanted this endeavor to be successful.

In short she would have to put her heart, mind, and soul into this, along with her body.

So she did. She researched and studied, taking notes on a variety of rather steamy strip club video feeds. There was a reason these women were pros. They really knew how to move, how to captivate and seduce with nothing more than the right moves and the perfect expression.

Lucy sighed, suddenly feeling very inadequate.

“Still studyin’?”

Natsu’s voice shook her out of her musing.

“Yeah. Trying to anyway. All these girls seem so...perfect and I’m...not.” Another sigh. He glanced at the screen, shrugged, focused on her.

“You see perfect, I see flat, boring, disinterested. The opposite of you, Luce.”

“You...you mean that…?”

“Duh. Every night you got on stage you always seemed happy to be there. You were winning the crowd and having fun with it. That’s pretty damn perfect to me. But then, you’re perfect to me.”

“Thanks, Natsu.” A sweet kiss with a hint of spice. “Want a special preview of my audition?”

“You bet I do.” Another, arguably steamier, kiss. She giggled and led him to their bedroom with a finger wiggle and a smile.

So she danced for him, giving him the show of a lifetime as she peeled off her uniform.

...Then she handcuffed him to the bedpost and climbed on top of him, eager to convey exactly how much she loved and appreciated him.

Much later, after both were quite satisfied and the cuffs were removed, Natsu pulled Lucy into a cuddle.

“You’re gettin’ better at dancin’.”

“Thanks, love...” Two sleepy mumbles followed by a kiss and a snore as they dozed off in one another’s arms. For the first time since this whole dancing thing reared its head, Lucy felt comfortable with it, even confident…

...All thanks to a certain pink haired goofball... ~~~ Flash forward to the following afternoon. Natsu and Lucy went to Bacchus’s club well before business hours. Cana met them at the door and led them to the main stage area, where Bacchus sat.

Introductions were made. Hands were shaken.

“Lucy, you first. Let’s see your magic.” She gulped, trying to keep stage fright from setting in. Natsu noticed, squeezed her hand, kissed her cheek, whispered.

“You’ve got this, baby. Go on.”

She bit her lip and nodded, then made her way to the stage as the lights dimmed.

Hypnotic beats, the same song she had practiced to countless times. Even last night with Natsu she had been a little shy, a little hesitant.

But not now.

All that hesitation and shyness?

Gone.

Her every move commanded attention. Even the subtle motions like nibbling her lip and unzipping her top conveyed raw sexual energy. Power. Less shy rookie girl, a bit closer to goddess.

And she knew it, from the dark gleam in her eyes and the saucy smile. She dropped the top to the ground, let her hands brush over her breasts, barely concealed by a little black string bikini. Those same hands pushed the soft material to the side, a trick she had learned from all her research. A loud whistle from the corner.

She spun around the pole, turned to face away from her quite captivated audience. Her hips swayed in time with the music, and her skirt fell down her legs.

Another trick, upside down splits. The bikini bottoms were untied and tossed right at her lover, revealing a tiny shimmering thong underneath. One last twirl around the pole, finishing with her legs in the air and her hair swirling around her. Her heart was racing, blood was rushing to her head.

And she was smiling. Holy shit, she had forgotten just how much fun dancing was.

Standing ovation from Cana, Bacchus, and Natsu. No surprise, Natsu was beaming and cheering.

"That's my woman right there!"

Moments later she was standing upright again, re-adjusting her bikini as Cana and Bacchus deliberated. The look on Natsu’s face exuded pure pride over his girl’s talents.

“Pretty hot, Lu.” Cana nudged her boyfriend, who was acting almost...disinterested? Aloof? “What did ya think, Bacchy?”

“I think I’ve seen worse from girls who’ve been doing this for years. You’re hired.”

Instant relief teamed with joy. Lucy squealed. Natsu grabbed her, spun her around, and kissed her.

“Told ya.”

“You definitely did. Thanks, Natsu.” Nose nuzzle. For a few sweet seconds they cuddled, until Bacchus’s voice brought them back to earth.

“Alright, pinky. You’re up.”

Natsu nodded, all smiles as he went to the stage. Lucy relaxed, knowing that someone as confident as he was couldn’t possibly mess this up…

Or, that’s what she thought she knew. She didn’t realize, couldn’t have predicted, just how wrong she could be.

The whole routine, if you could call it that, was a trainwreck.

First sign of trouble – he made a bee line to the pole. His grin expressed confidence. His actions expressed complete and utter foolishness.

“What the hell is he doing?!” She could hear Bacchus growling to Cana over the music. The feeling of dread that had started pooling in her tummy spread through her body, heating her cheeks in an embarrassed blush. If she could have crawled under the table and hid, she very likely would have.

What….was he doing? Well, by the looks of it, he was trying to imitate Lucy’s dance moves...trying being the operative word. It was, after all, rather difficult considering how different their bodies were. A man simply could not do this sort of dance the same way a woman could.

To his credit, he did look pretty sexy when he pulled his shirt up over his head...at least until his arms got tangled.

Then to make the whole thing worse, once he managed to wriggle the shirt off he grabbed the pole, tried to spin but ended up tripping over his own feet and faceplanting into the stage floor with an “oof!”

“Okay, we’re done here.” Bacchus groaned. He gestured and the music stopped. Lucy ran over to help Natsu up off the ground, her need to support her fiance overwhelming any embarrassment she felt...which in this case was a lot.

She honestly wanted to glare at him, but the sad, apologetic look he flashed her quenched any anger. Instead, she felt bad for him, sympathetic. He had at least tried, the poor dummy. So she squeezed his hand, hoping to convey loving support. Right now she knew he needed it.

“Natsu, man, you’re gonna need a lot of work before I let you on my stage again.”

Natsu nodded. He didn’t look embarrassed, mostly disappointed. He sat down while the others discussed scheduling, taking a rare moment of silent thought.

“Thursdays, Fridays, and weekends are our busiest days. We need all the talent we can get to bring customers in.”

“That’s...perfect, actually. It’s down time at the precinct so we’re off Friday through Monday right now.” She smiled. She was trying her best to play it cool but the truth is, she felt pretty excited.

“Great. Now let’s get this over with. Here’s the club’s rules and security waiver. Read through these and sign when you’re done.”

Once all the necessary paperwork had been signed, they shook hands again. Bacchus said something that made Lucy’s eyes brighten. Then he took a swig from his hip flask and went to his office, claiming a need to work on business stuff.

Cana grinned a sneaky grin and patted Lucy’s ass before sneaking off to presumably join her boyfriend.

Business stuff, indeed…

That left Lucy alone with Natsu. She slipped her skirt and top back on then walked over to him. One hand stroked over his shoulder.

“How’re you feeling, love?”

“Bummed but I’ll get over it.” Heavy exhale. Then he took one look at Lucy, grinned, and pulled her into his arms. Flirting and cuddling always helped when he was in a bad mood. “You were incredible out there, by the way. Even better than usual.”

“Thanks.” Sexy grin. They shared a delicious kiss. Her hand ruffled through his hair and their noses touched. “Oh...Bacchus said to tell you something.”

“Huh? What’d he say?”

“He wants to give you a second chance, but only if you take it seriously. Get lots of practice...and don’t just try to copy me, alright?”

“It’s hot when you do it, though.” He nibbled her lip and let one hand roam under her skirt.

“Down, boy. Not till we get home.” Soft giggle and finger waggle. “I can train you if you want. Give you private lessons when we’re not on call...you’ll be dancin’ like a pro in no time...You already have the body for it...” To emphasize this she traced a finger over from his shoulder to his collarbone.

“Private lessons, huh?”

“Yeah. Just you and me, one on one...” She was so close to him she could hear his heart racing as she brushed her lips against his ear. She knew damn well she was playing with fire...oh well, they’d deal with that particular “problem” when they got home… “You like that idea?”

He nodded. His next words, a growl. “I’m all fired up now, Lucy.”

#undercover dancer #natsu x lucy #nalu smut #lucy heartfilia dancing #lucy heartfilia being sexy #natsu what are you doing #stahp natsu #sexy #funny #sweet #work in progress

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tae-cup-main · 5 years

Text

𝓜𝓲𝔃𝓹𝓪𝓱

╔.★. .═════════════╗

M I Z P A H

(n) The deep emotional bond between people,

especially those separated by

distance or death.

╚═════════════. .★.╝

Pairing: Nishinoya x Reader

Genre: Mostly Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 1176

Triggers?: N/A

Author’s Note: When I was thinking about this story, I had a really good direction. Then I started writing it in my head, had to scrap it, and start over. I honestly hope this is a...surprising story. It’s mostly just drabble that ended up being kinda cute. Whew that word count....I’m sorry the kiss is subpar but It’s 1 am and my eyes are blurry uwu

Okay, it was safe to say you two were a chaotic duo. The energy that came off the both of you fueled you two even more. Nishinoya and Y/N are back at it again. That’s what everyone would think. Whether is was pranking Kageyama to trying to get Tsukki to laugh, you two never ran out of childish antics. You even dabbled in the ever terrifying adventure of waking Daichi up in the middle of the night. Of course, you made Noya do it since he seemed like the more insane one out of the two of you. And this was all before you started dating.

Once you started dating and getting closer, the trouble just multiplied. It gave everyone a headache. What was terrifying to Dad-chi, ahem, Daichi was that you two seemed to feed off of the other’s chaotic energy. It led to the concerned captain having to ban you from practice for a while, at least until you guys could stop making a ruckus during water breaks. Fine fine. You gave him that. You felt a little lonely without Noya while you waited for his practice to end, but you got some homework done. Little did you know that you’d have to get used to it pretty soon. You two just seemed to...to get each other. From the moment you met, it was obvious that the other knew how the other functioned and vice versa. He made sense. All his wacky pranks, reasonings, sayings. They made sense to you. And he always understood what you were trying to say, even when you were out of breath while running from an angry Kageyama.

This fun ended abruptly and without warning. You had been chosen for an elite art program in America. It seemed like the world had halted. You had been so happy to apply, but now...now you had Noya, you had the Karasuno volleyball team. You didn’t really have friends when you first applied so you didn’t mind the thought of being accepted somewhere far away. That all changed when Nishinoya happily approached you one day. The world felt like it had been spinning around and around in a love-like dream since then. But soon the fun and games would end. How would you tell him? What would you say?

Just then, the phone rang. The caller ID was Nishinoya. Of course, it was, you always chatted after school. After hearing about their being a ‘special package’ delivered, you had rushed home without warning. You couldn’t really do anything about going or not going, at this point. If you were accepted, it was pretty standard to go, especially somewhere so hard to get in to. The real question was how Noya was going to take it. It would be like tearing apart half of her soul and leaving it in Japan.

“Noya!” You answered, trying to sound cheery.

“Y/N! Where’d you go after practice? I waited, but you weren’t there so I left. Anyway, I got some steamed buns and-” He spoke a mile a minute.

“Uhm, Noya.” You interrupted softly.

He instantly quieted on the other line, only answering with a bleak, “yes?”

“I just got accepted into this prestigious art school.”

“Oh, that’s awesome, babe!”

“well, you see,” You could feel your eyes water ever so slightly. “It’s in America.”

There was an uneasy silence on the other side. It was just static. You were sure he was upset, yet when he answered after the pause, he seemed happy as ever.

“That’s still great! I’ll call and text you every day!”

“I’m so sorry.” A part of you just couldn’t stop apologizing. You wanted to make him happy and you knew this wouldn’t make him happy.

“Why are you sorry? This is a great opportunity. You need to grasp it!” He said encouragingly.

“What about all those pranks? Those fun things we had planned?”

“They can wait.” You almost heard the closure in his voice. It was as if, in those three words, you both managed to accept just a little bit of what was to come of this endeavor.

A few months later

He walked you to the check-in at the airport and watched you go. He had a sad smile on his face, but a smile nonetheless.

A few months after that

You wanted to surprise Noya just as much as he surprised you by keeping to his word. He called and texted every day. Not a single moment passed where you could possibly forget someone cared for you. He was a rock in the sea of new faces, new people, new experiences in America. He never looked down on your feelings, no matter how “invalid” they seemed to you. He always encouraged you in all your challenges. So you wanted to go see him win nationals. You wanted to see him get the glory and support him as he did for you.

The past months without him had been hard and he didn’t keep to his one promise; that he would wait on that big plan to prank Kageyama. Nishinoya had it all set up for when you came back, but the poor boy is hella impatient. He just couldn’t wait and it ended with two angry people. Kageyama was enraged at the fact that he was not only pantsed, but also covered in milk at the end of the prank. And the second person was you. You weren’t really mad, you knew he couldn’t wait. But still, you expected just a little more self-control.

You had bought your ticket to Japan, trying your best to keep it a secret, and were entering the airport when you saw a very familiar tuft of hair float past your peripheral. You both seemed to halt in your tracks. It was something out of a movie. You both slowly turned to meet eyes with Noya. He had a suitcase and some trampled looking flowers. You both opened your mouths in a big O and then pointed at one another, still no sound. People must have thought you were Mimes. Then, the tiniest of screams fled your lips.

“NOYA!!!”

“Y/NNNN!!!!”

You were screaming and leaping into each other’s arms. Well, he was more leaping into your arms considering you were a little taller than him.

Chaotic minds think alike, right?

“Oh my god, I was about to go on a flight to surprise you.” You tried to explain as quickly as possible.

“And I had just arrived to surprise you! I can’t believe-”

“We thought of the same fucking idea.” You both said in tandem, which prompted more shrieks of laughter.

There was a pause and you seized the moment. You pecked a quick kiss on his lips. It wasn’t anything slow or passionate, it just didn’t fit the mood. Then he grabbed your sweater and pulled you down the extra couple inches so he could give you a longer kiss. It was magic. The way your lips worked in tandem. Great minds think alike, but Chaotic minds will always think cleverer.

#nishinoya x reader #nishinoya #noya #fluff #writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu!!#Karasuno #Mizpah #surprise surprise?#nishinoya yuu #nishinoya yu #why did I write so much and say so litte?#how did this happen lol

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levi-inthesun · 5 years

Text

It’s Just You and Me, Baby

Part 1: Baby Shark

Summary: Scott Lang is turned into a baby while the team is trying to figure out time travel. Trouble is, they can't seem to turn him back into an adult. As the only ones w/out any sort of science knowledge past High School, you and Steve have to look after him.

A/n: if this exact story already exists I am so sorry. Part of me feels like I may have read something similar, but I'm not really sure? ALSO, this was meant to be a one and done thing buuuuut suddenly I already have a good chunk of the second part written. Oops. A/N- I read this after posting annnnd whoops I did not edit this damn thing. SO I am doing it now :)

Warnings: Swearing, a tiny bit of smut near the end (first time writing anything, bear with me), sexual frustration (bc you & steve are competitive asses in a relatively small space).

Steve Rogers x Reader

Steve called out your name over the sound of baby Scott crying. "He won't stop!"

You could hear the desperation in his voice and forced yourself to get up from your nap. Rubbing your groggy eyes, you walked into the common room and saw Steve, tears of his own in his eyes, doing his best to shush his tiny teammate.

"Have you tried singing to him?" You asked, voice flat.

Steve nodded, "That's when he started crying."

"Damnit. Ok, give him here," Steve gently handed you the baby, and he automatically started calming a tiny bit.

"That isn't fair," he grumbled under his breath.

You looked at him incredulously. "You're telling me you wouldn't feel calmer if I, in particular, were holding you?"

Steve blushed slightly, and your heart betrayed you by skipping a beat, or two. Ignoring it to the best of your abilities, you sat down, adjusted Scott so he was sitting on your stomach, your legs keeping his wobbly body propped up, and began singing-

"Baby shark doo doo, doo doo doo doo. Baby shark doo doo, doo doo doo doo. Baby shark doo doo, doo doo doo doo. Baby Shark!"

You kept going with the song, doing the hand motions along with it and soon enough, baby Scott was giggling and clapping.

After a while, Scott was just fine playing with some toys on his blanket on the plush carpeted floor. You turned to Steve and was about to say something when he suddenly stood up, chuckling slightly and moving to fix your hair. It had turned into a bit of a rat's nest during your not so great nap.

"Your hair looks nice," steve teased as he gently ran his fingers thru the knots.

You rolled your eyes, hoping to distract from the blush that was rising at him being so close.

"I think I'm just gonna take a shower, make me coffee?" You asked, stepping back and placing a kiss on Scott's little soft head.

"Sure," he said, smiling softly.

You would have taken your sweet time in the shower, but you knew coffee awaited you, so you were quick. Walking into your bedroom with a towel around your body, you began digging through your dresser. Steve cleared his throat from the doorway and you turned around quickly. Had you not been so surprised your jaw would have dropped.

Somehow, Steve looked like an entire meal despite being so desperate for Scott to stop crying earlier. Then he had looked messy, had vomit stains on his t-shirt, the whole baby-nine-yards. Now, he was in a clean shirt that accentuated his chest and arms, and a pair of jeans that you just knew did wonders for 'America's ass'.

You realized you were staring too long when a smirk grew on Steve's lips and you went to grab the coffee from him, but his hold on it didn't budge, bringing you closer to him.

"You smell nice," he whispered, voice low.

You gulped loudly and attempted to say thanks when you suddenly had the coffee in your hands and he sauntered away. You quickly shut the door and let your head rest on the door.

You had to get him back (get him back, what the hell were you thinking?) And knew exactly what to do.

A few minutes later, you walked out of your room towel-drying your hair and Steve swore his throat closed up right then and there. You were wearing your longline, push up sports bra (you had no idea why push up sports bra were a thing until right then) and a pair of high waisted jeans that sculpted your lower body perfectly. You sat on the couch next to Steve and began braiding your hair back, towel forgotten on the floor (you'd pick it up later).

You watched Steve from the corner of your eye as your back arched slightly, arms up, braiding your hair. You saw his eyes widen and had to almost physically stop yourself from smirking. You got to the point where you could keep braiding your hair by bringing it over your shoulder, and as you continued you looked over at Steve from under your eyelashes and you swear you heard him sigh.

(Maybe this was mean... Nah) your tongue darted out to wet your lips then softly bit your lower lip, looking around and settling into the couch as you finished off your braid. Steve still later there, body turned towards you and you giggled slightly when you realized he was working to control his breathing.

Flicking your braid back over your shoulder you leaned over to him and rubbed your thumb near his lower lip, "You had something there," you whispered, getting up to check on baby Scott, who has somehow perfectly timed his crying.

It had been over a week and they weren't any closer to getting Scott back to normal. By now, you and Steve were sharing a large apartment in the compound because it was just easier.

"How long are you going to keep this game up? I swear one of you should just jump the others bones- should have a long time ago, if you ask me."

Nat complained every time she had the chance, which was often, but she secretly loved having her very own entertainment- the last few years have been incredibly lonely.

"Well, no one asked you," you rolled your eyes as you continued bouncing. Bruce had gotten one of those baby wraps for you and Steve, said it was a late baby shower present. Scott loved it. You could just attach him to you, him facing the world, and you didn't have to physically hold him. "And I think I'm winning," you added, winning at your friend.

"Well no duh!" Nat called out, standing up. "Steve has been pining after you since you first joined the team," she whispered to you. "Put the man out of his misery," she added as she began walking off.

"Whatever, tiny Scott, I'm having fun and I'm winning, I don't care what the cranky lady says," you said as you opened the door to take a walk outside.

"Hey!" Steve called your name, running up to where you were. "You two going on a walk?" He asks, smirk present as you failed at not looking at his shirtless body.

"Yup," you replied.

"Mind if I join?" He asked his finger now in Scott's hand.

"I guess. Are you going to put on a shirt?" You silently cursed at the way your voice ever so slightly shook.

Instead of answering he grabbed the now shut door and you walked out.

The walk had been excruciating. Steve was basically perfect, even offered to take Scott from you but THAT you knew you wouldn't be able to handle. Shirtless Steve holding a baby?

Halfway through, Scott began to scream bloody murder. You stopped at a park bench and took him out of the wrap, checked his diaper, tried to feed him. Everything you could think of.

"Just hold him facing me, ok?" You nodded and Steve stooped down and began fucking singing baby shark, hand motions and all and Scott immediately chilled out.

Back at the compound after Steve put Scott down for a nap, he slunk in the couch right next to you, knees touching.

"I fucking hate that song," he stated, turning to look at you. "I had to watch that stupid fucking video so many times to get the hand motions right, oh my god."

You chuckled, agreeing before turning to him. "God, it's kind of hot when you swear," your voice sultry.

"Oh?" Steve said, his face getting closer to yours.

You could feel his breath hot on your lips when Nat burst in yelling your name.

"It's important. Come on!" She grabbed you by the hand and practically had to drag you out of there. When you were in the elevator, Nat burst out laughing.

"What is so goddamn funny, Natalia?" You asked, incredibly annoyed.

"I was watching-" she started trying to catch her breath, "the-the security cameras," she forced a deep breath thru her lungs, "and couldn't resist. You two have been driving us nuts, serves you right to get cockblocked." By the time she finished her signature smirk was on her lips.

You desperately wanted to be annoyed, but seeing Nat laughing like that- it was like before. Your eyes showed your emotions, and Nat caught it, recognizing what happened. Quickly, however, you were rolling your eyes and getting out of the elevator.

"Your welcome!" She called after you, teasing.

You flipped her the bird and heard her cackle.

Back in what was nicknamed, apartment Baby, Steve was picking up the baby stuff that littered the floor.

"What was that all about?" He asked, throwing another toy in the wicker basket.

You walked up to Steve and hugged him. His surprise faded quickly and he hugged you back just tight enough.

When you pulled away, he saw the tears trying to escape and his features softened.

You pulled him to the couch, and still holding his hand you turned to him.

"Nat was laughing, like, really truly laughing, Steve. It- it was like before when we would all play pranks on each other to blow off steam, and Nat- the goddamn super-spy and assassin would give herself away because she couldn't stop laughing right before the prank was pulled and it just...." you sniffed, and Steve gave your hand a squeeze, "I know we have, at one time or another, mentioned that we have all lost so much, it just, it hadn't hit me as hard as it did when she started laughing..." your voice trailed off for a moment before you found the words you were looking for.

"It hit hard when Buck was suddenly gone, for both of us. He became my best friend here. He grounded me in a way I've never known before. And, and Peter, god that kid has my heart- what I mean is, is that I've dealt with the grief of losing people I love. That pain is normal, constant. What I haven't dealt with is the fact that there are parts of us missing, those of us still here."

You didn't realize you were crying so hard until Steve wiped a tear away and pulled you into his side. You took in a shaky breath and closed your eyes for a minute.

"I, I don't know how to deal with this," you sobbed into his shirt.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you stopped crying when you heard Scott begin to cry. You tried to get up, but Steve stopped you, and you heard the song 'baby shark' begin playing in Scott's nursery.

"I got F.R.I.D.A.Y. to play it anytime he starts crying." Steve shrugged.

A small smile appeared on your lips before you shook your head and let out a sigh, pulling away from Steve.

"Whatever, though, right?" You started, and Steve's eyebrows crinkled together in concern. "We are gonna fix it. Everyone will come back and it will be fine. Whatever."

"No," Steve replied and your head turned sharply, almost mad. How dare he not let you be ignorant about feeling your feelings!?

He turned to face you, holding your face in his hands.

"It does matter even if we do succeed. Because even if they come back, there are parts of us that died with them, that we may never get back," Steve's voice was soft yet firm at the same time. Your name came from his lips like a caress to the cheek, "if you don't allow yourself to grieve this loss, just like the loss of our friends," he shook his head slightly, "our family, you are going to lose even more of yourself and I don't think I could bear watching that happen."

Steve placed a kiss on your forehead and the tears began falling again, this time though, you saw tears fall down Steve's cheeks too. So you placed a kiss on his cheek, wrapped your arms around his middle, and cried with him.

It was three weeks of the song baby shark. Three weeks of this stupid competition to see which one of you would get too horny and break. Three weeks of the luxury of being so close to Steve. Three weeks until Bruce could get the time machine working just so, to bring Scott back.

You place baby Scott in the machine gently and placed a kiss on his chubby cheek.

"I'm gonna miss you, you little bastard," you said, stepping back to stand with Steve.

"I think I will too, just a little," Steve stated.

Steve took your hand in his, something that had become extremely comfortable to you both that you didn't even notice.

Then, a few seconds later, Scott was back in his adult form and you were free.

You began packing your thing up from the apartment you were sharing with Steve when he came in.

"What are you doing?" Steve's frustrated voice carried to you from across the room.

"Well, we aren't parents anymore," you shrugged and got back to packing.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.," Steve said loudly. "Please turn off the security camera in the common rooms of this apartment, this is personal."

"Yes, Captain Rogers," the A.I.'s voice responded. "All cameras in apartment 'Baby' are now off."

Steve muttered a thanks before taking a few quick strides over to you.

"What was that for?" You asked, confused.

Steve looked you up and down and you remembered you were wearing a pair of boy short underwear and a bralette.

"You win," he whispered before taking your lips with his.

He kissed you like there wasn't enough time in the world. Like you were the only person he had ever wanted to kiss. His lips never left yours, his hands roaming your uncovered skin, pushing you back until your back met the wall and a moan left your lips.

Steve pulled back suddenly and you whimpered slightly at the loss. You looked in his eyes and swore he looked like he would eat you-

"God I could eat you up," he growled and next thing you knew, he had thrown you over your shoulder and you shrieked.

Steve only faltered when 'Baby Shark' began to play over the speakers. Frustrated (in more ways than one, you thought) Steve set you down on the couch and you rubbed your hands over your face. Just as Steve was about to tell F.R.I.D.A.Y. to stop, Scott burst into the room.

"You know, I weirdly love this song," he said smiling before leaving just as quickly as he had come in.

Once Steve had gotten the A.I. to turn it off and told it the song was no longer needed, Steve sat down next to you, his hand resting on your thigh.

"What a mood killer," you finally said and to both of your surprise, Steve burst out laughing.

You watched, confused, as his eyes crinkled and his hand went up and grabbed his chest and his entire body shook. When he finally calmed down, he turned to you and recognized the emotions playing across your face from earlier. His face began to show concern when smiled and moved so you were on your knees, straddling Steve's legs and you cupped his cheeks in your hands so that he had to look up at you.

"There you are," you said softly and a tear trickled down his cheek from the sudden mix of emotions moving from joy to a sudden deep sadness. You kissed the tears falling before placing a kiss on his forehead, another on his nose, one on his jaw, then placing a kiss on his cheek.

You pulled back, just enough to see Steve's face and you smiled. Steve gave you a soft smile before placing a kiss just as soft on your lips, then another and soon, he was kissing you somehow just as thoroughly as before, however, this time, he was taking his time. You felt goosebumps as his hands smoothed over your ribs, down to your hips where his hands rested, guiding you to sit in his lap. Your own hands moved from gripping the back of his head, one to stay, fingers threaded through his grown-out hair, the other gliding down his neck, over his impressive chest muscles, then back around to hold yourself as close to him as you could. Steve scooted forward on the couch and you let your legs wrap around his hips before he stood up, his hands pressing firmly into your hips and ass.

He began placing open mouth kisses on your neck, biting down softly.

“Your room or mine?” you breathed and he chuckled slightly, walking into whichever room was closest and kicking the door shut with his foot.

#Steve Rogers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers endgame #avengers endgame fanfiction #baby scott lang

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leejeongz · 6 years

Text

Stray kids reaction to their s/o getting injured playing sports

😘thanks for the request!! I hope you like it. I only did the first part of your ask I’m super sorry!!! It’s just that’s where I could write more, I hope you don’t mind😘

😊FYI when I say football, I mean soccer!! It’s just I’m British and saying soccer makes me cry lol😊

Bang Chan:

It was your biggest match ever and things just kept going from bad to worse. First your doubles partner tells you they’re sick so they might not play to their best, then your parents call to tell you they can’t make it and finally and possible the most ridiculous of them all, you fell down the stairs this morning and really hurt your ankle.

The moment is here, the biggest match of your life so far, and you serve first. You jumped up from your crouched position, letting go of the ball as you did so. The serve was great, and ace in fact, however your landing from the jump... not so great. You fell to the ground in agony and the game stopped, a few medics at the tennis club rushing to you accompanied by your boyfriend Chris. The concern in his eyes made you feel guilty, after all it was just a twisted ankle nothing particularly major but Chris didn’t care what it was, he never wanted to see you hurt.

The game was called off and you were told you could go home after getting your foot wrapped. Chan carried you all the way home, apologising for not bringing his car. When you reached your house he took you to your bed and tucked you in even though it wasn’t even close to night time. He went to get you some pain killers and a glass of water and upon return decided to grab your favourite comfort food, ice cream! He couldn’t bare the thought of you in pain and tried to gather everything he could to make you happy, but little did he know all you wanted was him.

Woojin:

The clock struck 12 and you were all called into the studio, leaving friends and family in the waiting room. One of the biggest dance teams was holding auditions and Woojin had encouraged you to go. You were amazing at dancing after all. You never expected the audition to be in front of everyone, you thought maybe just the dance captain and a few other important people, but no, it was everyone.

You weren’t going to lie, not having Woojin there made you slightly more anxious but there was no way you were messing this up. You were called up to dance towards the end, a lot of the “audience” were becoming bored so they weren’t really paying attention, which you were thankful for when you tried to execute a one handed cartwheel but collapsed. You stood up and ran out of the studio to the best of your ability, holding your arm and trying not to cry. Woojin quickly stood up and went to hug you but he saw your arm and how you were protecting it. Without saying anything he grabbed your other arm and rushed you to A&E, only then asking you want happened.

You discovered it was a sprain and the nurses gave you strict instructions of what to do and what not to do, Woojin listening intently so he could look after you to the best of his ability. Upon returning home, he asked you if you wanted him to stay the night, but you didn’t really have a choice. He told you to sit down on the sofa while he made dinner for the two of you, even asking if you wanted him to feed you, half joking half not.

Lee Know:

You were extremely prone to injury, only yesterday walking into the side of the bed and stubbing your toe. This definitely wasn’t a good thing when it came to sport but you enjoyed it so much, field hockey being the one you were most passionate about. Today was the semi finals of a national competition and as much as he protested because “it was boring” you forced Minho to watch. He sat in the crowd the first half of the game, watching with a close eye making sure the other team weren’t playing dirty. The second half however, he sat back in his chair and watched you play, as ungraceful as hockey was, you still looked beautiful and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Which is why he was the first to notice when someone on the opposing team tried to Ariel flick the ball and failed, hitting your chest with extreme force. Struggling to breathe you signalled to your manager that you wanted to come off. You walked straight into the tunnel, leaving your teammates on the bench in bewilderment. Minho had rushed down to you, somehow getting past all of security. He hugged you which he realised then wasn’t the greatest idea but it was the thought that mattered. Your manager broke up the meeting and told you to see the medical team so you did so, holding Minho’s hand the whole time hoping to forget the pain. In order to make you forget about it, Minho kept making jokes, but that only made your chest hurt more and made the nurse fall in love with Minho more, but who could blame them. When you were discharged, Minho didn’t let you out of his sight. Not that he’d admit it but he really did feel like crying for you. For you to be in so much pain and for it to draw you from your favourite sport he knew must have been bad and it hurt him to see that, after all he was your protector and he let something bad happen to the baby.

Changbin:

Your first day back training with your football team. You missed them all so much and you couldn’t wait to introduce them all to your boyfriend after the training session. You started off gently, simple penalties and a few passing drills. As stupid as it sounds, during one of these drills, you stopped the ball with the sole of your foot then unconsciously moved your foot forward causing you to fall back. At first it was funny, actually it never stopped being funny, but it didn’t half hurt your spine when you fell back.

Your coach told you to sit at the side until training was over, not wanting to hurt your back anymore. After a few more drill it was finally time to go, Changbin coming up to the side of the pitch looking for you. You stood up with pain shooting through you and walked as normally as you could over to Changbin who noticed something was off. He wrapped his arm around the middle of you back and told you that he had you, all your friends whooping in the background. Changbin smiles to himself then at you, but he noticed you were still wincing in pain. He walked a little quicker, practically carrying you this time. The dorms were closer than your house so you went there instead. The boys tried to talk to you which you obviously didn’t mind but Changbin fended they off, almost dragging you to his and Chan’s room and making you lay down in his bed. He joined you, careful not to hurt you even though the pain had pretty much gone now and made a fuss of you until you were asleep. No matter how many time you told him it no longer hurt, Changbin wasn’t having it and continued to give you back rubs while giving you little pecks on your lips occasionally.

(This gif is EVERYTHING I’m not a Changbin stan I s w e a r)

Hyunjin:

You and Hyunjin often went swimming together, it was like your thing. The pair of you were known there by many and you had lots of friends who also swam there. You never really classed it as sport or “working out” because it was just so fun. The pair of you would just swim around, sometimes racing against each other for fun. Back stroke with neither of yours strong points so that’s what you chose to focus on. After about half an hour, and after the few days of practicing beforehand, you hosted your weekly mini race. You were behind him slightly so you decided you try even harder. Not realising the wall was so close, you bashed the top of your head on it. Your jaws snapped together and your eyes shut, hoping it would dull the pain a little. You didn’t realised the sound was so loud. Since it was only you and Hyunjin in the pool it wasn’t too embarrassing. The life guard came over to check on you and to help you out of the pool, followed by Hyunjin who was trying his hardest to keep up with you after tiring himself out in the pool. You sat on the plastic chairs by the side of the pool and you thanked the life guard telling him you were okay now. Hyunjin knelt in front of you with sorry eyes. His hands rested on your thighs and after a while he stood up and kissed your soaking wet hair, right where you bumped your head. You stood up too, grabbing his hand and telling him to get changed and wait for you in the reception area. You were constantly on his mind while you changed. What if you’d fainted in there? What if no one was in there to look after you if anything bad happened? Just as he went to text you, you came out and smiled at him. He rushed over and hugged you asking if you felt okay, promising that if you didn’t he’d take great care of you, but he did that anyway.

Jisung:

Juxtaposing Jisung’s hatred for sport and physical activity, you loved sport! Your running team was your second family (Stray Kids being a close third) and you don’t know what you’d do without them. Your school entered you into a competition meaning you’d have to go against your running friends, but that didn’t stop you from giving it your all. You started on the inside lane, you didn’t really have a choice since you were the last to arrive. To your right you spotted 2 other members of your “squad” and you wished them luck, them doing the same back to you and then to each other. You then turned to see Jisung in the stalls with a massive sign, ready to cheer you on. The pistol went and every runner gathered to the inside lane pretty quickly, legging you up and leaving you face first on the track. You chin was cut open and your knees, elbows and hands all grazed. You hobbled of the track, assisted by one of the event staff who took you up to the “first aid station” where they wiped your chin and all the dirt from you and the staff took you up to Jisung who already has his jacket off, prepared to wrap you up in. With that now around your shoulder and Jisung’s arm around you, you felt immediately better, cheering on your team mates because of you can’t win then you hoped they could. Jisung looked at you with admiration and planted an unexpected kiss on your cheek. You were injured, yet that still didn’t stop you from being the best friend anyone could ever wish for, and also being the best s/o he could ever wish for. But that didn’t stop him teasing you about your chin.

Felix:

Badminton was such a vital part of your life. You played every day at the local sports centre and entered yourself into every competition, winning them all with Felix cheering from the side of the court after every point winning hit. You were friends with all the people who went to the same centre too, you often played against them and it was good practice.

One day, after school, you and a close friend, along with Felix who just went to watch, decided to go and play even though you’d already been there in the morning. They told you of the new racquet they’d purchased and how light it was compared to their old one. A few sets down and you were both beginning to get tired, your friend more than you. The shuttlecock came toward them and they swung their racquet in an unusual movement, it came straight out of their hand and hit you in the face. You held back the tears and forgave them straight away, knowing your friend didn’t mean it. They both rushed towards you and Felix politely told you friend to go home and get some rest. He held your face and checked for injuries, nothing visible, he confirmed.

You returned home and he gave you an ice pack with a towel wrapped around it to place on your face where ever it hurt. He sat next to you on the sofa and brushed his arm against yours. No matter what was happening, Felix always stayed playful and cheerful which you were super happy about. He challenged you to a game of mario kart which of course he let you win and later ordered your favourite take out as your prize.

Seungmin:

You never really played sport, preferring to stay at home where you couldn’t get hurt. Seungmin had bugged you since you guys had started dating that he was gonna teach you how to play cricket, once he learnt too. He’d been going to lessons with your dad, in hopes your father would like him more, even though he already loved him. Finally the day had come and you’d agreed to go to the park with him and all his “relevant” sports gear which seemed pretty excessive to you. He told you that you could bat first and showed you how to hold the bat like the real players do. You stood impatiently waiting for him to throw the two coloured ball at you while he teased you, pretending to throw the ball but not actually letting go. When he did throw it, you were ready, you swung the bat back and you felt something weird in your back. You’d pulled a muscle, great. You couldn’t face telling Seungmin, he wanted to do this for so long and you didn’t want to ruin it now. You continued in great pain, you hit the ball and returned to your normal stature letting out a little grunt in pain. He rushed over and you dropped the bat instinctively. He rubbed your back, knowing exactly what you had done, telling you how silly you were not to tell him. He picked the bat up and packed away all his equipment, keeping an eye on you as he did so. He walked you back to the dorms where you were sleeping that night and supplied you with a hot pack and some soup like his mother used to do after he hurt himself during a baseball game. Of course he’d tease you slightly, laughing at how you did it on your first swing, but you’d obviously give it back to him, bringing up all his injuries from his baseball career as a little boy.

I.N:

Cheerleading was your thing! You were cheer captain since you came to the school and rightly so, you were so talented and everyone knew it. But of course there was always someone on the team who was jealous. The start of a new year meant new comers, all of which thought they deserved your spot more than you. You were always at the top of the pyramid but just to please this one girl, you said she could be at the top, you joining your best friend on the next layer down. Practicing was fine, it all went really smoothly and the girl above you was super light.

The night finally came of the big game and you all prepared to do the pyramid after doing a little bit of the routine. The bottom few layers formed and you and your friend stretched slightly but you couldn’t concentrate on that when you saw your boyfriend in the audience with a huge smile on his face. This was the first time he’d ever seen you perform and he was not disappointed. You and your friends reached the top and the girl climbed on top of you. Something felt strange, a numb feeling making its way across your back as the girl above you dug her knee in harder. You couldn’t take it anymore. You collapsed under her and caused the whole pyramid to fall somehow. You ran off the pitch crying, you weren’t in too much pain but you knew that was your cheerleading career over. Jeongin rushed down, spotting you and sprinting towards you. He extended his arms and his hands gripped hold of your upper arms telling you that everything was going to be okay. He swung his back pack around and handed you a tissue before putting a hand on your back and accompanying you to the door of the changing rooms.

Gifs aren’t mine

#stray kids #stray kids reaction #stray kids imagines #bang chan #woojin #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #felix #seungmin #i.n

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valkyrieofsmut · 5 years

Text

Title Engel de la Gargouille Section 2 part 7

Engel de la Gargouille (Gargoyle’s Angel)

Kurt Wagner/ Nightcrawler x Female OC

Overall series warnings: Smut, bit of violence, swearing, German (translations provided, but I have bad grammar… Sorry native speakers…) French (translations provided, but they are mostly like Google translations, as I am VERY new to French) (Translation help/ corrections are always welcome) (Will be added as they come up) Chapter warnings will be added individually as well.

Types: Smut, Angst, Mutual pining, Pregnancy, Romance, Love, Insecurity, Long as hell…

A/n- Pretty short this time, but I just couldn't think of anything else to put in winter of that year.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Story!

Angeline pulled at the bottom of her shirt, stretching her wings up a little so that they sat comfortably in the cut out space in the back of her shirt. This style had become popular lately, and it helped her wings feel more comfortable while keeping her covered elsewhere, so she was glad to purchase them.

Angeline looked out the window again, seeing the snow falling to the ground and smiling. She had many memories linked to the snow, not all of them happy, such as the time she’d been drugged and nearly raped and murdered, but some of them were nice as well; her stepfather taking her out and teaching her how to make a snowman, telling her about sledding, before her mother had forbid her from going outside, claiming that the cold air was too harsh on her skin.

Angeline pulled her long duster on over her wings, tucking them close so that they didn’t get caught in the garment. The bottom of her coat had definitely seen better days, having been dragged around on the ground for a few years when she was on the street, but she still loved it, and how it made her not stand out as much as usual.

She made her way down to the front door and headed outside. She wandered around the grounds, a smile on her face as she looked over the snow covered scenery.

The trees looked like either large puffs of snow surrounding the dark shadows of their needled branches, or like a drawing with shadows behind the white lines of snow against the equally white background of the snow covered grass and bushes. Angeline continued on her walk around the mansion, musing about making snow angels by simply stretching out her wings and laying on the ground. She paused by the side yard where the snow was a wide and mostly empty space, and thought about building a snowman, just because she could, but was distracted by a noise further down the yard, closer to the building.

She turned and saw a group of the younger kids running around and throwing clumps of snow at each other. A snowball fight.

A wash of excitement filled her stomach; the mock snow war looked like so much fun, running around, harmless weapons, and she felt the urge to join in.

Her body froze halfway through her first step. She had never been in a snowball fight before. She'd never thrown a snowball before- in fact, she had never made a snowball before.

Angeline looked down at the snow as her brow wrinkled. It couldn't be that hard… She leaned down and grabbed a handful of snow, watching as it all fell through her fingers. She grabbed another, squeezing her hand to pack it, but as she made a fist, the snow didn't stay as a ball; it clumped and stuck to her glove, leaving her with only a tiny clump in the shape of her squeezing fingers. She frowned down at it, and took another handful of snow, which also left only a tiny clump if snow as it crumbled and fell out of her hand.

God, she was useless. She couldn't even make a snowball.

Angeline looked back up to the kids running around, trying to press another snowball together, only to have it fall apart. Maybe it was better that she didn't join, after all, these were all younger students. That is, until she saw Kurt ducking a snowball and tossing one back toward the other side of the fight. At that, Angeline very much wanted to join the fight. She wanted the excuse to run and play, spend time with Kurt, maybe touch him- just a hand on the shoulder or grab his arm to stop him from falling down, nothing creepy, just enough to get him to look at her and realize that she existed.

Angeline bit her lip, trying to get up the courage to go over to them. They were having so much fun, running around, all knowing what they were doing…

She felt like an outsider. She had felt like an outsider before, most of the time, actually, but usually it was because others were spending time doing things with those around them and not including her, on purpose. This time, it was not on purpose, and she would probably be welcomed; Kurt was always so nice and kind, he never let anyone feel left out. This time, the problem was that she had no idea what she was doing, how this game was played. Were there rules? Mostly, she just saw the kids and Kurt running back and forth, throwing snow at each other, she couldn't tell if there was any rhyme or reason to what was going on. Were they on teams? Were they defending a certain side of the yard? She felt so uncertain.

This was a child's game, something that anyone should be able to join and play, without thinking about it, but there she stood, unable to figure out the basics. How stupid, worthless, and useless was she if she couldn't even figure out how to join a children's game? Is this why Kurt wasn't interested in her? Why he never noticed that she existed? Her completion certificate suddenly felt like a waste of paper and ink.

Angeline's stomach felt like a roiling pot of boiling water, not that she knew much about pots of boiling water either…

Despair began creeping into her chest. She felt so useless; she couldn't even cook to feed herself, no wonder Kurt never noticed her! Angeline's eyes strayed over to Kurt, and she saw him duck down, falling to the ground in a pile of laughter and good spirit.

She shook her head. How could she suspect such cold things from Kurt? He was a wonderful, kind person… even if it wasn't to her.

Kurt laughed as he fell down into a pile of snow, rolling and feeling the cold crystals of ice coating his furred skin and winter clothes. He heard Jean call from the door, telling the kids that lunch was ready, and they all ran toward her, leaving Kurt in the pile of snow on his back. He still had a grin on his face as he laid there for a moment, sometimes watching all of the younger kids at the mansion was tiring, but it definitely gave you a feeling of happiness.

A shadow fell over him, and Kurt looked up, his heart hammering in his chest at once. Above him was the perfect vision of beauty that was Angeline. The sun hit her hair from behind, making it look like a magnificent halo of gold glowing around the sweet face and brilliant blue eyes staring back at him. The smile that graced her face was pure perfection. It took him a moment to realize that she was extending her hand toward him. “Now you are a true white knight, oui?”

Kurt could feel his checks heating and hoped that it could be mistaken as something caused by the cold. "Ah, ja,” he answered, taking her hand and standing before shaking the snow off of his body, reminding himself over and over not to let his tail wrap around her. It was a more intimate and claiming gesture than he had any right to make. God, he felt like a fool standing there next to her, his tongue thick and useless in his mouth."Um, excuse me, I should go help with the little ones…” And then he ran away like the coward he was.

Kurt knew that he should have taken the chance, stayed there and tried to talk to her, but his heart had been pounding in his head so hard that his brain hadn't been able to get through to his feet. He glanced out the glass in the door behind him, regret at running away already filling his stomach as he watched her stand there in the snow for a moment longer before she turned and walked away.

Kurt ran a hand through his hair, shaking more snow from it as he mentally reprimanded himself for his cowardice, then turned and headed toward the dining room to actually do what he'd run away to do.

… … …

Logan walked into the kitchen, passing Angeline where she was washing dishes and going to the fridge. He pulled out a beer and opened it before pulling the rest of the pack out. On his way back past, he stopped next to her. “Come to the rec room when you're done, and bring a drink,” he told her.

She raised her brows to him. “Why?”

Logan just finished the beer in his hand and tossed the bottle in the trash on his way out.

Angeline turned back to the dishes, confused. Why would he want her to go to the rec room this late at night? Everyone else had gone to bed just about the time she's started the dishes.

She finished them, not quite sure whether she was going to go or not, but in the end, she poured a large glass of orange juice and curiosity won out.

Kurt followed Logan to a table in the rec room, wondering what this was all about, sitting down and seeing the chips, cards, and beer at the table. He smiled, nearly laughed, wondering why Logan had kept it secret that he wanted to play poker.

Then the reason walked in the door.

Angeline walked up to the table, her stomach bubbling with nervousness at seeing Kurt there. “Sit down,” Logan gestured to a chair, and she sat.

“W-what are we playing?” She asked.

“Poker,” Logan told her.

“I have never played,” she admitted.

“You'll pick it up,” he said. They played for a few hands before she could really figure out what was happening, and another two or three before she started remembering what hands to keep and which to toss.

“Which one wins?” She asked, looking over the three hands on the table again.

“Mine, then his, then yours,” Logan told her, pointing around at the hands. She ran out of chips and watched the two men play for a bit longer before declaring that she was going to bed.

“We're doing this next week, too,” Logan told her.

“Ok,” she responded, taking her glass and heading to the kitchen.

“You're going to have to actually talk to her,” Logan told Kurt as he laid down his cards and took the pot.

“What?” Kurt asked in confusion.

“I didn't put this together so you could sit around sulking at the same table.”

“So that's why you suddenly wanted to play poker.” Logan didn't say anything. “I have spoken to her,” he informed Logan.

“‘Bout what?”

“You know, things…” Kurt said, blushing.

“Like what?”

“I don't know, different things…”

“Uh-huh,” Logan scoffed. “Talk to her more, then.”

… … …

Poker the next week was pretty much the same; Logan kicking their asses at the game, Angeline trying to learn which hands beat which, Kurt, losing because he was spending too much of the round staring at Angeline.

Tonight she was wearing a nice looking t-shirt, one of the ones that looked like it was tied together along the arms and back, giving space for her wings to be comfortable, but also covering from her collarbone to her hips, her jeans picking up under it and covering her down to her ankles, the same kind of thing she'd been wearing for a while, now. Kurt's fingers toyed with his cards in his distracted state.

Why was it that even though she was completely covered, not trying to gain any attention, probably especially from him, his eyes couldn't keep from drifting to her collarbone? Couldn't keep from thinking about kissing and licking along the fine bone visible beneath her tender skin, up her delicate throat, along her jaw, devouring her mouth and then lower, driving her crazy with need- basically kissing, licking, and eating her alive until she could think of nothing but him, make her desire- no, hunger- for him the way he did her.

God, he had it so bad… he was lucky that she was so innocent; she surely would have been pissed at him, or hated him, by now if she knew what he was thinking every time she tilted her head to check the cards, every nibble of her lips driving him nearly insane with want.

A smile grew over her lips, and Kurt's heart skipped a beat. "I think...” she hesitated, her musical voice twisting Kurt's guts into knots, "I think I've got it this round.”

“Hand," Logan corrected lazily.

"Hand,” Angeline agreed easily. Her lips quirked a little higher in her perfect smile, and his heart ached. Her teeth pressed into her bottom lip making his body ache lower. Angeline's eyes lifted, meeting his, and Kurt could feel the way his heart throbbed at the delicate, innocent beauty looking back at him. His eyes quickly went back to his hand so that she couldn't see the longing in his heart to hold her close and stare lovingly into those gorgeous blue portals for all time.

Even though he'd never felt it before, he was pretty sure that this was love. The longing that made him want to protect her from anyone who'd ever even think about harming her, the the deep seated need to do nothing more than hold her close, he was pretty sure that was the feeling of love, and he was pretty sure he'd been in love with her since the first second he'd seen her.

Tag list!

If you’d like to be on any of my tag lists, please let me know! Also starting up my Ao3!

@racheo91 @a-book-pressed-rose @tephi101 @keldachick @Randomfandompenguin @Avacadobutthole @mannls @screeching-student-unknown @lilypalmer1987 @pingu89 @gifsbysimplysonia @omnomsauruswrites @mybloodtypeiscoffee @lizfawn @badassbaker

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slapshotsandoneshots · 7 years

Text

Player: Morgan Rielly – Toronto Maple Leafs

Prompt: You and Morgan are expecting your first child, you had hoped that the baby would wait till after the playoffs to arrive, but the little one had other plans.

Mentions: Maple Leafs Roster mentioned slightly.

Warnings: Slight Cussing.

Preview: The pregnancy had been going smoothly. You were 35 weeks and the Leafs were in midst of their playoff run. You were currently dedicating your time convincing the little Beaut to stay safe and sound in your belly.

Characters: 1576 words.

The Masterlist is right here.

You and Morgan had been married only a little over a year when you found out you were expecting your first child. Morgan was beyond excited. He went out and basically bought out every baby store in Toronto. The rest of the team were no different. The little one was being spoiled before they were even born. The boys were beyond excited that their team “Mom & Dad” were now going to be real parents.

You and Morgan had decided not to find out the sex, Mo was fond of it being a surprise. You resorted to calling the baby little Beaut. Kannon had other ideas and called the baby big bird. You were hoping you would not be pushing out an eight-foot yellow bird in just a few weeks.

The pregnancy had been going smoothly. You were 35 weeks and the Leafs were in midst of their playoff run. You were currently dedicating your time convincing the little Beaut to stay safe and sound in your belly. You were standing in the bathroom brushing your teeth when Morgan walked in from morning practice.

“Hey Mama, You okay? You were up and down all night.” He asked wrapping his arms around your protruding belly.

“Just couldn’t get comfortable last night” you smiled trying to pass it off as simply just that, it wasn’t a complete lie. What you left out is that it was all the cramping that was making you uncomfortable. You called your doctor once Morgan had left for practice and he said you should be fine as long as your water didn’t break or the contractions weren’t too close.

“Are you joining me for my pregame nap?” Mo asked, bringing you from your thoughts.

“Ill lay down with you, but if I can’t get comfortable I will go downstairs. I don’t want to keep you up.” You walked over to the bed and laid down with him. He quickly fell asleep. But the cramps kept coming, now a bit closer.

You quickly got up praying not to wake up Mo. He was still out when you reached the door. You smiled at him sleeping so peacefully.

You went downstairs and into the kitchen. You hoped eating something would help settle the little one in your belly. You began making a sandwich, talking to your belly.

“Listen here, little Beaut. I can’t wait to meet you but Daddy has a very important game. So that means you need to keep your little butt in there.”

You felt a kick as if the baby was answering in rebellion.

“Don’t you sass me.” You heard a laugh and turned to see Mo walking down the stairs in his suit.

“Little Beaut being sassy are they?” he asked placing a kiss on your forehead.

“We are going to have our handful aren’t we?”

“Between the little Beaut and the rookies? For sure.” You laughed at his answer.

“Lucy is going to pick you up?” he asked

“Yep, I will see you at the game Captain” You smiled

As you heard the door close, the cramps continued.

“Why won’t you listen!” You threw your hands up as you walked up the stairs to get ready. This baby was leaning towards being more and more like the rookies. You were going to the game and this baby was staying in your stomach.

You had just slipped into one of Morgan’s old practice jerseys. It was one of the only things that felt these days.

You had just finished getting ready, between more and more cramps, as Lucy pulled up. You walked down the driveway and by the time you pulled yourself into her car, you were out of breath.

“Are you alright Mama Rielly?” she immediately asked obviously concerned.

“I am fine, just some cramps, it’s nothing.” You answered through your breathing.

“I am pretty sure they are called contractions when you are pregnant Hun and that we should be going to a hospital, not a hockey game.” She answered refusing to pull out of the driveway.

“Lucy. The doctor said I was fine as long as my water doesn’t break and that the cramps… contractions are not close enough. We are going to the game, I am going to watch my husband win, and this baby is staying in my stomach.” You said quite blatantly, trying to convince yourself more than Lucy.

“Let’s go to a hockey game then,” Lucy replied pulling from the driveway.

Lucy helped you up to the family suite where the attention was quickly turned to you. The girls flocking to you all rubbing your stomach and making sure you were okay. All you wanted to do was sit down.

You finally found your seat and were trying to get through that pointless breathing they taught you at Lamaze class when you were approached by Kannon. He came up and put his ear to your belly.

“How is Big Bwird?” he asked as he rubbed your belly with your hand.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Big Bird is not listening to their mommy.”

“That’s not good when I no listen I get timeout.” Kannon looked back down at your belly. “You no like timeout big bwird, no fun.”

You giggled. “Come on Kannon, Let’s let Auntie Y/N watch the game.” Molly smiled at you as she took Kannon to their seats.

Lucy sat down next to you, “How far apart are they now?”

“A few minutes maybe?” you answered as you tried to breathe through another contraction.

“Y/N we should really go to the hospital.”

“I can make it, Luc.” You tried to convince her as you turned to watch the game.

You had made it hallway through the game. It was the middle of the second period, the score was tied. That was until Morgan scored a breakaway goal and you all stood up to cheer.

Your smile dropped as you felt the liquid drip down your legs. Your shock was quickly over thrown by a contraction. This one was the worst one you had experienced.

“Fuck.” You almost yelled as you gasped for air. All eyes were suddenly on you.

“Yep, it’s time to go.” Lucy grabbed your hand and lead you towards the door. Steph was following you but was headed towards downstairs.

You looked back at her and everyone else. “No one tells him! Not until the game is over!” you demanded.

The girls looked at you. “But Y/N…”

Promise me you won’t, or I will stay until the game is over.” You stared them all down and they knew you were serious.

You looked at Lucy. “Now let’s go have a baby.”

You reached the hospital and the contractions had calmed down and you were settled into the room. Morgan’s Mom had gone to the house to pick up your hospital bag and a change of clothes for Morgan since you all knew he would rush straight here. Lucy was feeding you ice chips as the three of you were watching the rest of the Leafs game. You prayed it didn’t go into overtime.

The game ended and the Leafs had won. All the guys were on the ice celebrating winning. That’s when they all turned and looked confused at both Steph and Sydney running out on the ice. They both almost tackled Morgan. You suddenly watched Morgan race towards the locker room as all the guys were behind him.

You shook your head. Not 15 minutes had passed before the door to your room swung open. There stood Morgan, still have dressed in his hockey gear.

He rushed to your side. “Y/N! Are you okay? Why didn’t you come get me?”

“I’m fine, it was a big game. You didn’t need to sit here with me, I’m not that far into labor.”

“But what if you were? I would never miss this. You and this baby come before hockey any day of the week. How long have you been feeling contractions?”

“Since last night maybe?” You shrugged trying to look innocent.

“Y/N!”

“Okay maybe I should have told you, but everything worked out. So let’s just focus on now meeting the little Beaut. Plus, I’m about to push your child out, I get a free pass” You smiled.

He chuckled placing a kiss to your temple.

“Now go change, you stink.” You giggled.

He rolled his eyes and took his clothes from his mother.

A few hours and quite a few curse words later, you were lying in bed next to Mo holding your baby girl.

“She really is a Beaut,” Morgan whispered in your ear, stroking the newborn's cheek.

“What should we name her?” you asked looking up at your husband.

“Charlotte, we can call her Charlie.” He smiled not taking his eyes off of her.

“I love it, Charlotte Grace Rielly.”

Morgan took his eyes off of her for a second, “We are parents.”

“We are, should we introduce her to the rest of her siblings?”

He laughed as he got up, taking one more look at his little family before he went into the waiting room.

Soon your room was filled with the entire Toronto roster. All of them swooning over the little baby in your arms.

And your family was complete.

#morgan rielly #Morgan rielly drabbles #morgan rielly imagines #NHL imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl drabble #toronto maple leafs

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amnachil · 7 years

Text

The High School Game Part 8

(no i’m not coming back several months after, absolutely not :p)

Gregory DAY 60 Saturday

The after-match was going well. The young lad played as an attacking midfielder, while Tobias took Sam position as the supporting striker. However, the game turned out to be a big joke. Raphaël, displaised by Tobias attitude, decided to play solo. He scored 3 goals alone, leaned on his defense to make the rest. And they won this way, the others strikers desperately useless. Sam, constrained to the bench, had a lot of fun seing the spectacle, and laughed hard during 90 minutes. We tried to make fun of him but he had more fun than us... Gregory leant his lesson : do not prepare a plan without the captain approval. Anyway, Tobias, sportsman-like, organized a surprise-party as always. And now, they were in his manor, having fun. I'm so happy. Thanks to Raphaël support, the discreet boy started to become popular. He spent a long time after gym class every night exercising with Thomas. Rumours spread faster : 11th grade student thought he was the new right arm, instead of Sam and Tobias. And I managed to move aside both of them... Indeed, Tobias was moving soon, and Sam... well Sam being Sam, Gregory used his pride to trap him. He will never succeed my bet, but I will feed him so much he will just explode. And rigt after, Raphaël will be the only barrier between him and the success. Everything is going well. The others shouted when he won another beerpong game. Easy. Gregory sighed and found his way towards the buffet. Sam was here, eating like there was no tomorrow.

"Care buddy, I could make you stuff yourself, you know ?"

The brown lad smiled.

"Try it. I can handle everything, knowing you're too bad to be supporting striker."

"What do you mean ?"

"Well, you saw this : Raphaël did not need your help or Tobias's one to win. So why would he designates you supporting stricker while I was better, even without my full muscle capacity ?"

Gregory smiled. This motherfucker was just provoking him. He wants me to lose face. He will be disappointed. He knew he can't feed Sam too much, or the captain would notice somethings, but his "partner" got what's coming for him.

The discreet boy took a slice of pizza, and looked for Barbara and Jessy. Thanks to rumours, he knew the latter had a crush on Liam, the goalkeeper. By the way, where is this boy ? He disappeared, like the two girls. What the fuck are they doing ? Gregory searched them for a while, but he bumbep into Shirley. The blond girl was more or less hiding under the stairs, and watched Sam with sadness. Poor thing... Maybe she needs some comfort. He decided to join her, and smiled when she noticed him.

"You were not at the match." he stated. "We won."

"Ten persons told me Raphaël won." she agressively replied. "You're the only one to say the contrary. And to be honest, I watched the whole game, and I can tell you deserve no special credit."

Gregory lost his smile. She wants to fight ? Okay, I can do this too.

"Sam and I became good friends." he whispered. "He told me you were the worst girlfriend of his life."

Shirley gave him a dirty look. Yeah, irritate yourself chick, and make a spectacle of yourself.

"I suppose it's better than having no one." she responded. "By the way, you said Sam and I were a sweet couple one week ago. How much opportunist and brown-noser are you, exactly ?"

"Well, this is the game, as Raphaël would said. Be a good loser Shirley, and admit I was better than you."

"You're so pathethic. Manipulated by your captain, you just think you're special. But let me tell you a secret, Gregory : you have nothing. You are just easier to manipulate than the others."

He clenched his fist. How she dared ? He was at the head of everything, soon better than Sam and Tobias, and after that... Anyway, she had no right to insult him while she was the hated-girl.

"Look at you." Shirley continued. "You want to tease like Sam used to, but you just failed. Exactly like on the field. It seems like you're a unlucky boy, after all."

He grabed her shirt, enraged.

"You will pay for this. I'll make you pay, do you hear me ?"

"What could you take from me I didn't already lose ? My boyfriend act like if I wasn't existing, and my only friend decided I was responsible of all his misfortune. You have nothing to steal from me now."

"I will find." he promised. "I'll find."

Gregory left the manor quickly. He knew some random guy saw him, meaning his improviastion worked. And now, I will have another rumour about me. I will become even more popular than Raphaël, thanks to this stupid Shirley. Everything was going fine.

Shirley DAY 61 Sunday

She left the party early (she understood Sam would not come to her, he just acted like she was not here). After a disturbed sleep, she went to her athletics without any motivation. The training last 3 hours. Shirley worked with a group, mainly running, but sometimes, they did the others sporting disciples (her favourite was javelin throw). Having started at 9:00, she finished at 12:00, satisfied with her performance. Suddenly, she caught sight of Liam, waiting beside the running track. She came closer and smiled :

"Hi mate. How are ya ?"

Seeing her, the black-haired guy smiled too. He had a cheerfully smile.

"Hey Shir'. I'm fine, and you ? You're quite good, as much as I see."

"Well, thanks. I'm training for years now. What are you doing here ?"

"Waiting for my sister." he replied while showing a young girl on the track. Oh, they are siblings ? I did not know that. She knew Chloe, a 7th grade student promised to be one of the best runners of the athletics club. And now, she could actually notice resemblance with Liam.

"Usually, it's my mother who get her back." he explained, guessing her question. "But she is busy with my little brother right now, and asked me to come."

"Okay."

Shirley did not want this moment to end. She needed this discussion, making her feel better. At least, the goalkeeper treated her with respect. But what she could say ? I have to try my luck.

"Last time, you said me you disliked Jessy's physic... But would you date her if she was... slightly different ?"

He blushed like a eight years old shy boy and lower his eyes.

"Probably..." he answered in a hushed tone.

"Well, I can give you some advice if you want me to. As you said, I'm like... well, a specialist. At least according to rumours."

"You will tell me you have not feed Sam in order to make him gain weight ?"

She smiled. He was smarter than he looked. And he is one of Raphaël's closest relatives. I have to be careful on this.

"You know what I did. And I can help you to do the same thing to Jessy. That will be easy, seeing as she doesn't pratice any sport except equitation on Sunday."

He frowned, suspicious.

"What did you want in exchange for you help ?"

Here we are... High school community worked by deals. Students signed several arguments, and tried to keep them secret. They all wanted popularity, success, a relationship and good grades. It was a constant fight against rumours and envy. Liam as for her were not exception to the rule. They both wanted something. Well, the boy wanted Jessy. A chubby Jessy. However, Shirley hesitated. What I really want ? She dreamed about Sam, but also revenge against Raphaël, Jessy (but she can't make a deal about that with Liam, of course) and this fucking asshole of Gregory. The goalkeeper waited her answer, but she had to be cautious. He is too close with Raphaël... He will not betray his friend for me. Nevertheless, he don't know Gregory very well... I can use this... Or I can use him to make up with Sam. Eventually, she chose.

"I teach you how to date Jessy and fatten her up a bit, and you help me against Gregory."

"How am I supposed to do that ?"

Good. He did not decline, so he was ready to give it a try. Sam would never forgive her anyway, but she still could make Gregory pay.

"Spread a rumour for me. Well, that's not really a rumour, but when Jessy will hear it, everyone will be aware of this."

She came closer, and whispered :

"Tell to them Gregory want to take the team captain position."

Shirley went back home pleased by the new development. Liam was a sweet boy, in love and quite smart to understand where his interest was. He agreed to the deal. Soon, Raphaël will find out about Gregory ambition, and they will tear each other apart. She was back in the game. The young girl went upstair, avoid her sisters and entered in her bedroom. Suddenly, Dan hailed her. He came closer and smiled. Obviously, he knew about her separation, and since last Sunday, he tried his best to lift her spirits. Today, as every weekend, despite being 13:00, he worn his pajamas, probably woken since 30 minutes or less. The clothes (a new outfit) were loose enought to hide the most of his fat. However, his belly, which packed the most of it, was still visible, as a bump under his shirt. The gut hung over his pants sized 36, apparently bloated from a big breakfast. And still, Dan was eating a slice of bread with chocolate.

"How was your lesson sis' ?" he asked.

"Fine. I'm training for the january tournament, and my instrutor think I'm better than the last year."

"That's good ! And you have one last week at school before holidays. It'll be alright, isn't it ?"

She smiled. His brother was so sweet. She could not understand how this awesome guy tolerate Raphaël coldness. Needless to say, since Sam left her, Dan was the reason she had not a nervous breakdown. But soon, her rumour will spread, thanks to Liam, and she will have her revenge.

"Everything will be fine bro'." the girl stated. "Futhermore, Wednesday we have the christmas day : feast, party and good mood are obligatory. I'm among the volunteer to make the cook on Thursday, and I think I will have fun."

"Yeah, I hope you will." he replied. "Raphaël invitated me to the party : I will manage to be here, okay ?"

She nodded. Really, the idea of her vengeance expanding gave her satisfaction. She watched her brother go downstairs while rubbing his belly, and smiled. The game had began again.

Sam DAY 63 Thuesday

Sat here, in the coach office after the gym class, Sam felt a bit nervous. Next to him, Raphaël wrote an message, totally quiet. Well he is not the one coach Litman summoned. The two boys already knew the reason of this little meeting. When the coach arrived and sat, Sam gulped. He did a workout routine, and exercised as much as possible. He did not know his weight, because he was too busy to weight and was persuaded he lost some fat. After all, his pants fittted and his shirt were not smug anymore. The young boy felt comfortable, and he hoped coach Litman will not be too strict.

"Okay boys, let's begin. You probably know why we're here." started this one. "Sam, you can't remain our supporting striker as long as you're... hum... not ready."

Out of shape. He wanted to say out of shape. The brown lad sensed he will dislike the development.

"I think we will appoint you substitute, and let an other player take your place."

"You said he had to get back in shape before the holidays." interrupted Raphaël. "He still have one week, plus the two weeks of vacations."

Coach sighed.

"Please, how could he succeed on time ? Nobody lose weight during christmas, it's even more the contrary. And the last week of school will not be enough. We have to replace him in order to win our next games. He can't stay beside you in those conditions. Sam, what training are you doing ?"

"Workout on morning, especially bodybuilding and running. And I came to gym class every day last week."

Well, that was a lie. To be honest, Sam did his workout every two day, because bodybuilding was exhausting, and he disliked run beneath everyone's eyes. But it was enough to get back in shape, he knew that. Coach mumbled :

"This is good, but I think you would not be able to make it. Seeing you know, I'm sure it will be too hard."

"Let him try." asked (ordered) Raphaël. "We will designate another supporting striker meanwhile, but Sam is still our first-team player officially."

Coach Litman nodded. I already know my bestfriend was authoritatian, but wow... I will have to thank him for this. It was quite impressive, particularly knowing their instructor was 195 cm and weighted something like 110 kg of fat and muscle mixed.

"I thought Gregory would be a good supporting striker. He became faster, this last month."

Sam frowned. This cockcroach, instead of him. No way. He is too bad. Raphaël fixed his gaze on the coach and smiled slowly. He exuded such a callouness, the brown lad shuddered.

"It's out of the question. Gregory get the physics ability, but he have the wrong mentality. He will always try to score by himself, and will ruin our teamplay."

Well, last time, you ruined the teamplay. Obviously, Sam did not say that. Coach Litman neither. They both knew Raphaël was essential to the team, unlike Gregory.

"We have plenty of players who want a place in our team, even as a substitute." continued Raphaël. "Designate one of the substitute, and take another guy in his place."

"But... substitute are substitute because they are the worst player of our team."

"Maybe, but Sam will come back soon enough, and to be honest, I can handle pool phase all by myself. Are we all right ?"

The coach and the brown lad nodded, too cautious to brave the team captain. Anyway, he was right, for sure.

Back home, Sam was hungry (Greg fed him at noon as much as possible, and then he ate somes donuts, but still he was hungry) and rushed towards the fridge. He opened the door and smelt the odor of chocolat mousse. Indeed, his mother left a big container full of it and a word. He read it, curious while his stomach gurgled :

"Honey, this is one of my special dessert I made for the high school christmas lunch as a volunteer. Please, have a taste of it and tell me how it is."

He did not need to be told twice. Sam took a generous spoon and put it on his mouth. A multitude of flavor enguled his throat, and he sighed with pleasure. It's so good. He felt the warmth taste of chocolate fill his stomach. He watched the container with envy. His mother took the bigger, and there were still a lot of mousse. One more can't hurt. The young boy took a second spoon, and polished it in no time at all. Then, he closed the door and went to his bedroom, satisfied. This christmas meal will be so nice. Greg already warned him : it will be a feast. But the bet would be ended, and Sam would have win. The lad sat on his chair and patted his tummy. I can't lose this, I want this laptop. He took a can of protein shake (A lot lied around his desk) and drank, his head full of ideas. Then, he opened his agenda, and watched his homeworks. Sam started by mathematics, while eating some chips, but he felt bothered. This assignement was annoying, and he hated mathematics. Plus, chips were quite gross after the wonderful chocolat mousse. The idea of the dessert made his belly gurgle again. Well, seems like I'm still hungry. He was used to eat a lot, since his started his workout routine again, in order to have energy. Sam devoured two larges bawls of cereal and a glass of milk every morning, plus some cookies his mother made. Then, before school, he bought donuts at Liliano's bakery, a six or twelve bag. Then, Greg gave him some snacks during the class, and they went back to the bakery during the break. They did this the whole day, plus lunch, where Sam ate at the canteen, and then at Mcdo (Greg made sure he stuffed himself). And every evening, his mother Nadia cooked a real feast for her son, glad to see he had an appetite again. In fact, the only difference with before was now, the young lad exercised. Shirley made him fat by made him lazy. Now, I'm working out, and I'm not fat anymore. I'm losing the weight really fast, definitly. His stomach gurgled again, excited by the idea of eat. Sam went downstairs, checked he was still alone and opened the fridge. One spoon will be fine. There is still plenty of it. Slowly, he ate one spoon. And another. And a third. Sam, without even notice, brought the container to his bedroom. He gorged himself with the delicious dessert. It's so good. After a while, he bleched loudly and took a break. With patience, he rubbed his bloated belly. This chocolat mousse his too tasty... But now, I will put it away. With another blech, he stood up. Woah, I'm so stuffed. His belly, round and hard, felt nice. Sam lower his eyes and stare at the remainder of the dessert. It smelt so appetizing. Well... I guess a little more could not hurt. Carefully, he sat down onto his bed. During at least 30 minutes, he pigged out. His bloated tummy was ready to explode, but the delicious dessert was too attractive. He stuffed himself the whole container, while rubbing his distended stomach. He was unable to stand up straight, currently in a food coma.

"Son ?! I'm back !" shouted his mother from downstair.

Sam, barely able to think, did not answer. Holy shit, I need to find a explanation. I will tell her I invited some friends... He belched, and closed his eyes. Before all, it was time for a nap.

"I'll call you for diner !" his mother shouted again.

He smiled, and fell asleep.

Gregory DAY 64 Wednesday

As he walked towards tle classroom, the young boy could feel his mates staring at him. His plan to get himself talked about was working well. In the near future, he would be even more popular than Raphaël. The power is mine. However, one thing was turning wrong. Sam appatite and capacity were higher than he thought. This asshole could really win the bet. Despite being overfed the whole day by perpetual snacks and a huge double lunch, the brown lad succeeded so far. Anyway, lose a latpop worhty 800$ was not so bad if Gregory became in the same time the new head of the 11th grade.

"Hey Gregory. What's up ?"

Jessy, his beautiful and big boobs sized schoolmate, smiled. With her black hair and blue eyes, she was quite cute, depiste being not Gregory's favourite. I deserve better than her. Plus, the last check-up on december revealed she gained 1 kg, being now at 62. It means she will become obese before her twenties, and I don't want such a girlfriend. To be honest, his ideal was Shirley, but with a much lenient personality.

"I'm fine." he eventually replied. "Ready for our history exam ?"

"Well, as much as I can be I guess." she smiled again. "But I wanted to have a discussion with you before."

"Yeah ? What can I do for you ?"

Already, people came to him instead of Raphaël. This is the beginning of something new. But I will be good with you captain, because you and your brother were nice to me. Maybe Raphaël would be his right arm.

"I heard you have some... different with Shirley. I have some too. To be honest, I expected her to be devastated after Sam left her, but she act like if nothing happened. Even worst, I saw her talk with my new boyfriend Liam, and I dislike the idea. We both have interest in common."

Gregory gave a faint scowl. This was even better than he thought. With the gossip girl help, he would be able to find a weakness. A way to make Shirley pay for her provocations.

"What are you offering ?"

"She lost her boyfriend, and everyone hate her, but she still think she can be happy because her brother supported her. We have to break their relation."

"How ?"

Gregory felt excited by this. Shirley loved her brother, and talked about him often. If they have an argument, she will be devastated.

"Spreading a rumor. A rumor which make her a real asshole, even for her brother. I already have an idea, but I can't spread it myself. I need you to do this."

Jessy came closer and whispered the development :

"Tell everyone she is lesbian. Okay, you think it's totally dumb, but think for a sec. She love sport, and have the body of a real little boy. And she is short-haired, always wearing jeans or sweatpants. Please, she is the only girl doing that."

"I don't give a fuck about the truth. This is awesome, she will felt devasted, and her brother will be disgusted. Really, this is a nice idea. But we can improve it a bit."

To be continued

Well, this is soon christmas holidays (in the story of course) and we’ll have fun with that ! I’m sorry for taking so long before posting a new part, I’ll try to be effective again !!

#hsg #the high school game #My Story #sam x gregory #the game start again #plots everywhere #part 8 #wg

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junker-town · 5 years

Text

The 7 best beefs to circle on the NFL calendar

Of course Jalen Ramsey and Baker Mayfield are two of the players with a score to settle in 2019.

Welcome to Revenge Week at SB Nation NFL, where we are celebrating the dish that’s best served cold. You can keep up with all our latest revenge content here.

Everyone loves a classic case of bad blood.

Football is a contentious and confrontational sport by design, but things get ramped up when two of the competitors just plain don’t like each other. You know if Michael Crabtree and Aqib Talib are playing each other — Crabtree officially signed with the Cardinals — you better tune in to see the inevitable chain snatching.

That skirmish started because a player was disrespected and thought he needed to defend his pride. That’s the same dynamic that fuels so many other NFL feuds.

It’s why Jets running back Le’Veon Bell will want to show out when he plays the Steelers this season, and Ravens safety Earl Thomas will get a chance to make the Seahawks pay for not giving him an extension.

Right now, we’re not talking revenge on a former team, though. Charles McDonald already broke down the best of those matchups on the 2019 schedule. Instead, we’re focusing on the best beefs between two players — or maybe a coach and a player — this upcoming season.

Here are the battles in 2019 that have too much animosity for you to miss.

Aqib Talib vs. Michael Crabtree (Rams-Cardinals, Weeks 13 & 17)

The aforementioned chain snatching feud is back on the menu.

Arizona scooped up Crabtree in early August and that’s perfect because it puts him back in the NFC West. That means two (possibly high tension) December matchups against the Rams, and the possibility of another matchup or two with Talib.

Crabtree and Talib got along during joint practices between the Ravens and Rams last year, and they reportedly squashed their beef at a go-kart track earlier in 2019. So maybe it’s done. We’ll see if December football can ramp things back up to their old chain-snatching ways.

ICYMI: #Broncos CB Aqib Talib broke Michael Crabtree's chain necklace, then laughed about it: https://t.co/lb4gi5g4ag pic.twitter.com/gftimX02G7

— Jon Heath (@ByJonHeath) January 1, 2017

Richard Sherman vs. Michael Crabtree (49ers-Cardinals, Weeks 9 & 11)

Talib isn’t the only one who has had problems with Crabtree. Sherman had some harsh things to say about the receiver years ago. Back then, Sherman was a member of the Seahawks and Crabtree with with the 49ers.

The peak of the rivalry came on Jan. 19, 2014. In the NFC Championship, Sherman deflected a would-be game-winning touchdown away from Crabtree, resulting in an interception that sent the Seahawks to the Super Bowl.

Then he tore into Crabtree, calling him a “sorry receiver.”

Let us never forget that time Richard Sherman went off on Michael Crabtree while a terrified Erin Andrews stood next to him. pic.twitter.com/graJKFvxg5

— gifdsports (@gifdsports) March 9, 2018

Things never got quite that contentious between the two again. They only played each other two more times in 2014 and then Crabtree left the division to join the Oakland Raiders. They haven’t seen each other since and Sherman’s rant to Erin Andrews came to define the feud. It pushed Sherman into superstardom and Crabtree’s star has since faded.

A couple more matchups after five years away could stoke those old flames.

A.J. Green vs. Jalen Ramsey (Bengals-Jaguars, Week 7)

Ramsey has annoyed plenty of players in his career in Jacksonville, but nobody has blown their top quite like Green.

In a 2017 game between the Jaguars and Bengals, Green had finally had enough. After about two quarters of getting antagonized, the receiver was set off by one more push from Ramsey. Green choked, tossed, and punched the cornerback and both players were ejected.

Green was suspended for a game, and apologized for losing his cool.

A.J. Green -- "I apologize to my teammates, Mr. Brown, and everybody, because that is not who I am. It just got the best of me today."

— Katherine Terrell (@Kat_Terrell) November 5, 2017

But Ramsey only tried to further stoke the flames. He reportedly tried to find his way to the Bengals’ locker room after the ejections. Days later, he told reporters that Green was “soft,” “weak,” and not “mentally strong.”

Jalen Ramsey sounded off at AJ Green after practice: pic.twitter.com/NbeVK1kTTQ

— NFL Update (@MySportsUpdate) November 9, 2017

Ramsey has provoked what sometimes feels like half of the league in the couple years since. The fight was out of character for Green, though. He’s generally a mild-mannered, quiet player who hasn’t had problems with anyone else.

Green’s even dismissed the idea that he and Ramsey have a problem.

“There’s no real beef,” Green told PFT Live. “There’s no real beef off the field. There’s just two competitors. Got in the heat of the moment. Stuff happens. When you’re playing, it’s sports man. You know, tempers go crazy sometimes, and sometimes you can’t control emotions. I couldn’t control mine that day. [I’ve] got to do a better job of that.”

Does that mean part two will be less contentious? Maybe. But Ramsey’s still going to be someone who talks trash constantly, and you have to imagine Green badly wants to avenge his frustrating first performance against the cornerback.

You shouldn’t expect another brawl between the two, but this midseason clash will surely have some heat.

Baker Mayfield vs. Kliff Kingsbury (Browns-Cardinals, Week 15)

Most of the time a coach vs. player beef wouldn’t be that exciting to watch — not so when Mayfield is involved, though. He’s the type of player who will air his dirty laundry out in the open.

After all, the iciest death stare of the 2018 NFL season came from none other than Mayfield and was directed at his former coach, Hue Jackson.

Baker Mayfield staring down Hue Jackson pic.twitter.com/GIOTBemQF1

— Vikings Blogger (@firstandskol) December 23, 2018

So don’t be surprised if Mayfield has even more attitude reserved for another one of his former coaches: Kingsbury. He probably has even more reason to have a chip on his shoulder when facing Kingsbury than he did with Jackson too.

Jackson was fired by the Browns before joining the Bengals — which somehow pissed off Mayfield. In the case of Kingsbury, it was Mayfield who was spurned.

In 2013, Mayfield walked on to Kingsbury’s Texas Tech squad and earned the starting job for the opener of his true freshman season. By the end of the year, he was the Big 12 Offensive Freshman of the Year, although an injury cleared the way for Davis Webb to steal his starting role.

The situation rubbed Mayfield the wrong way and he left Texas Tech to join Oklahoma.

“When I got hurt, there was no communication between me and my coach,” Mayfield told ESPN. “When I got healthy, I didn’t know why I wasn’t playing right away. At that time, we were losing a couple games in a row. I was still clueless as to why I wasn’t playing. That was really frustrating for me because I started the first five games and we won. So, I just didn’t really know exactly what he was thinking or what the situation was.”

Between 2015 and 2017, Mayfield was a three-time All-Big 12 selection and beat Kingsbury’s Texas Tech teams three times along the way. He wound up with a Heisman Trophy, was the No. 1 pick in the 2018 NFL Draft, and enters his second season with the Browns with expectations sky high.

There’s not a lot of reason for Mayfield to harbor hard feelings, because things certainly worked out well for him post-Texas Tech. Except, this is Mayfield. He feeds off of revenge. There’s no doubt he will jump at the chance to stick it to the coach who he thinks didn’t believe in him.

Ben Roethlisberger vs. Terrell Suggs (Steelers-Cardinals vs. Week 14)

Suggs and Roethlisberger battled in the AFC North for 15 years. Now Suggs will don a different uniform for the first time in his career after joining the Cardinals on a one-year deal.

In December he’ll get another chance, likely his last, to bring down Big Ben.

Both players have experienced success in their long history of Ravens vs. Steelers matchups. Suggs has sacked Roethlisberger 17 times, more than any other player. Roethlisberger’s 13 victories in the regular season — and two more in the playoffs — against Baltimore are the most any player has ever had against the franchise.

The (presumptive) final chapter will look a lot different with Suggs wearing red. And the ill will between the two players is closer to a case of frenemies than true rivals.

“I think there’s a lot of mutual respect there between each other,” Roethlisberger said during the 2018 season. “There’s a little bit of talking on the field — I wouldn’t call it trash-talking — but there’s some mutual respect trash-talking, if you will, that goes on. It’s a special rivalry he and I have.”

Suggs hasn’t been as effusive when talking about Roethlisberger, but he was friendly enough to swap jerseys with the quarterback after their last duel of the 2018 season. Over the years, he’s called Roethlisberger a “rat bastard” with “Jedi mind tricks.” He’s also warned everybody not to fall for the quarterback’s supposed injuries.

Suggs has no doubt that Roethlisberger will play on Sunday: "How you doin', Benjamin?" pic.twitter.com/lEwQbP15EM

— Baltimore Ravens (@Ravens) November 2, 2016

But hatred has never really been the backbone of their grudge. Both players will be 37 for their Week 14 game, and even if it’s not quite as spicy as other feuds, it’s one we should all appreciate getting to see one last time.

Richie Incognito vs. Yannick Ngakoue (Raiders-Jaguars, Week 15)

The silly rivalry that’s brewing between the Bills and Jaguars is great fun. However, one of its most unfortunate chapters came shortly after their postseason meeting in January 2018.

After the Jaguars’ win, defensive end Ngakoue accused Bills offensive lineman Incognito of saying “some weak racist slurs” during the game. Other Buffalo linemen denied the accusation and an NFL investigation concluded it had no proof slurs were said.

A few weeks later at the Pro Bowl, Ngakoue and Incognito reportedly cleared the air.

So maybe they buried the hatchet. Or maybe the two will play with a little extra edge when the Jaguars and Raiders meet in December.

Sean Payton vs. Marcus Peters (Saints-Rams, Week 2)

The Great Gumbo Grudge started in November 2018 when the Saints picked on Rams cornerback Peters in a 45-35 win. The New Orleans offense couldn’t be stopped, but it was receiver Michael Thomas, especially, who couldn’t be contained.

Peters was in coverage for seven of Thomas’ 12 receptions and gave up 146 of the receiver’s 211 yards. That included a 72-yard touchdown for Thomas in the final minutes that put the game on ice.

Payton told reporters that Thomas burning Peters was exactly how they drew it up.

“That was the plan,” Payton said, via the Los Angeles Times. “They were going to travel Marcus to him, and that was fine by us. We thought we really liked that matchup — a lot.”

Peters responded by telling reporters he looked forward to a potential rematch:

Marcus Peters looks forward to playing the Saints again, and sharing a bowl of gumbo with Sean Payton. pic.twitter.com/W5Kpmm5P4M

— Lindsey Thiry (@LindseyThiry) November 9, 2018

“Tell Sean Payton keep talking that shit, we’re going to see him soon,” Peters said. “You feel me? I liked what he was saying on the sidelines too. So I’ll tell [him] ‘Keep talking that shit and I hope you see me soon. You feel me? And then we’re going to have a nice little bowl of gumbo together.”

Peters got his wish when the Rams and Saints faced off in the NFC Championship Game. In the second meeting, he gave up only two receptions for 28 yards, although the Rams floated several different cornerbacks over to cover Thomas. Still, when presented with a clear opportunity for an “I told you so,” Peters opted against it.

Marcus Peters: “I don’t even like gumbo. I was just bullshitting y’all.”

— Dan Wolken (@DanWolken) January 21, 2019

[infomercial voice] But wait, there’s more!

The next chapter of this particular rivalry is great because it’s not just Peters vs. Payton. It’s also the whole damn city of New Orleans vs. the Rams.

The Saints would’ve been in Super Bowl 53 if it weren’t for an atrocious missed call. Rams cornerback Nickell Robey-Coleman clearly got away with a pass interference penalty that — if called — would’ve set up the Saints to run out the clock and kick a game-winning field goal. Even the Rams admitted it should’ve been a penalty.

Instead, Los Angeles got the chance to force overtime with a field goal of its own and eventually won.

Saints fans had a big, angry parade and went so far as to file a futile lawsuit against the NFL for the result. Payton — who said the blown call was the most obvious pass interference penalty ever — led the charge for a rule change that will now let coaches challenge interference penalties.

There will be fireworks when the rematch happens in Week 2. There will also be a chance for the Saints to get some vengeance. But Payton and Peters are at the root of it all.

0 notes

quatschmachen · 7 years

Text

August Long Weekend pt 2

Take this, I am tired of looking at it. Blergh.

Continuation of this.

XXXX

Waking up early had not been on the agenda for Étienne, but apparently that had been the plan for Saturday since the get go. He was being shaken awake, and he swatted whoever it was.

“Ten more hours.” He mumbled into his pillow.

“If you don’t get up now Mac is gonna eat all your food and you will have to float down the river only being sustained by cold chardonnay and potato chips,” Edward’s voice teased.

Slowly Étienne opened his eyes, and slowly turned his head toward Edward’s voice. “River? Potato chips?”

“Mmm, it’s only French toast this morning, due to laziness, but I think Mac is going to be coming inside soon and devouring it,” Edward was continuing.

Sitting up and rubbing his eyes, Étienne frowned, French toast still took time to make, “Wait, what time did you get up?”

“Oh uhhm,” Edward glanced at the clock, “Six?”

Étienne frowned and looked towards the clock and squinted, “It’s eight.”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you up so early?” Étienne asked as he reached for his glasses.

“Chickens? Making breakfast for everyone? Getting the bags and lunches packed?” Edward shrugged, “If I don’t get up early no one else does and we’ll be running late.”

“No one else helps you? I wouldn’t mind helping you.”

“Eh, they do when they can, but they had their own tasks like getting the truck ready.” Edward was smiling, “I like it, being useful, y’know? Why are you so concerned about me making everyone’s lunches, Étienne?”

“You are like everyone’s mom,” Étienne yawned. “What about a truck ready?”

Giving a snort, Edward said, “Hardly, I just like being on time and making sure everyone is well fed. Mac and Calvin are outside making sure everything is packed so we can roll out after breakfast, Caroline is getting the rest of the food ready and I am here waking up Sleeping Beauty.”

“Isn’t she awoken by a kiss?” Étienne wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, “By her mom friend?”

“I am not sure how to feel that I have been downgraded to mom friend,” Edward said as he rolled his eyes and leant in giving Étienne a small peck on the forehead without hesitation, “There, will Sleeping Beauty grace us with her presence now?”

“Mom friend is a good thing,” Étienne added, pleasantly surprised that Edward hadn’t even thought twice about giving him a kiss, perhaps they were getting the hang of being friends? “Mmm yeah I guess I could be convinced to get out of this comfortable bed.”

“You make it sound as if you intend to move in,” Edward teased as he straightened up, his hands already working to smooth the duvet cover.

“With how much you feed me I might not be able to take flight,” Étienne said as he swung his leg over the side of the bed, stopping as he remembered he was naked under the sheet, he clutched the duvet cover around his waist looking over at Edward feeling self-conscious suddenly. Last time they were in this situation it hadn’t ended so well. “Calvin’s already teased me about this.”

“Has he?” Edward sounded surprised.

“Mmm… for all I know you’re about to adopt me…” Étienne paused awkwardly, realizing that Edward was too busy staring at him to even notice his dilemma, “Do you mind leaving me to get dressed?”

For a moment Edward stared at him blankly, trying to process, his eyes roving up Étienne’s bare chest, down to the waist with the duvet puddled around it modestly; it was confusion and then comprehension. “Right, Sleeping Beauty must keep her modesty… after breakfast it will be easier if you just put on your swim trunks since we’ll be going into the river right away…”

“Yes mom,” Étienne said with a slight whine, earning a light slap from Edward who quickly moved out of Étienne’s reach.

“See you in five,” Edward said as he closed the door behind him.

Rubbing his hair, Étienne let out a sigh, thinking there was no point to putting underwear on if he was going to be wearing swim trunks anyway. Settling on the idea of swim trunks and his pink t-shirt, he quickly dressed, hoping to be on time for food.

His phone buzzed, and with some annoyance at the delay, he checked it. Rolling his eyes, he read the message from his sister, it was one of her habits to check up on him, and as he replied the text “still in Edmonton” over a disgruntled looking selfie, he set the phone down onto the dresser. She had been badgering him a little about when he would return, and honestly he wasn’t exactly keen on telling her any of his plans. Probably because he also did not know when he would return, for every time he thought he would book a flight something else seemed to occur to delay him.

As he entered the kitchen he noticed that the Formica table had been extended to accommodate them all. Of course Edward would have kept the extender sections, in perfect condition, he thought fondly. However it led to a conundrum that he was no longer sure as to where he could sit.

Caroline, who was setting the syrup in the middle said to him, “Sit anywhere, hun.”

“Can I help?” Étienne offered, not feeling comfortable being waited on hand and foot.

He received a smile from her, “You can set the orange juice onto the table if you like, the boys should be in soon.”

“Where’s Ed?”

“Here.” Edward said behind Étienne making him jump and let out a swear.

“No swearing in front of the ladies,” Caroline reprimanded, giving Edward a wink.

“Ladies?”

Edward sighed as he set the table, while Caroline explained, “Oh I tease him, he’s such the house wife, I say we’re the ladies, and the other two are our boys, always getting into trouble.”

“Oh? Edward was insisting he wasn’t the mom friend when he got me up this morning,” Étienne confided, getting a dirty look from the man.

Letting out a peal of laughter, Caroline took a moment to calm herself, before saying in a rather gossipy tone, “I have never heard Edward described so accurately; did you know, when Calvin was very small, Edward was the one who had to show him not to be afraid of dogs?”

“Caroline, Calvin won’t appreciate you spreading this story around,” Edward interjected in a pained voice.

His protest was met with a hand wave from her, as she leant in closer to Étienne, taking him into her confidence as she began to regale him with stories of Edward being the mom friend, only to be interrupted when Mac stomped in, closely followed by Calvin, announcing how hungry he was.

Edward looked visibly relieved at the appearance of the two other men, and as everyone settled into place, Étienne realized Edith was not there.

“Where’s Edith?”

“She’s coming after breakfast,” Edward replied as he began to dish the food out, “she had some errands to run.”

“This looks excellent, darlin’,” Calvin commented as he tucked into his French toast.

“Your coffee is wonderful, sweet pea,” Mac added giving Caroline who was sitting beside him a small kiss on the cheek, causing her to blush slightly and giggle.

Étienne turned his eyes to the food, feeling uncomfortable being the fifth wheel to these couples. Was he really going to be spending another full day with the dream team? His angst however was drowned in how delicious the French toast was, and closing his eyes in contentment he worked to ignore their casual conversation.

“Lookin’ forward to the day on the river?” Mac asked as he turned to Étienne, the toast at the end of his fork slowly dripping syrup onto his plate.

“Not sure if Calvin and I should be allowed on a river together again after what happened last time.” He said with a sly smile.

“Why’s that?” Mac asked with interest.

“Oh you see, last time we went on the white water rafting trip, back during the minor cities camp, and I ended up plunging into the river,” Étienne laughed, “Come to think of it our Australian tour guide was also named Mac, right Calvin?”

Glancing over to Calvin with some amusement, Étienne noted that the other man looked sort of like a deer in the headlights, and after following the small look flicked towards Edward, who had paused mid-bite to give Calvin a rather loaded Look, he wondered if perhaps he had somehow fucked something up.

“Right,” Calvin said in a somewhat forced jolly tone, before his voice took on more natural animation, “hell you were terrible the entire camp – drinking way too much.”

Quirking an eyebrow at that direct shot, Étienne said, “The only way one can get through that nonsense is by not remembering it.”

“That is so rude, camp is for bonding and better city relations,” Calvin exclaimed.

“Come to think of it,” Étienne said, brushing off Calvin, “Mac, why haven’t you shown up to these meets?”

Mac shrugged, “Since I am technically not a city, Emma doesn’t invite me… plus… we don’t exactly get along. Not for a long while.”

Sensing that the tension in the room seemed to be increasing at this, Étienne was relieved when Caroline piped up, “Tell us more about the camp, Calvin’s been keeping pretty mum on that year.”

“I wasn’t keeping mum,” Calvin complained, “I just didn’t think it was that important to explain every detail. We went to camp, we did the activities, Étienne fell down a cliff and then later into the rapids, and we made pie… and uh… wait Étienne helped win the archery contest. The end, done.”

“You won an archery contest?” Caroline exclaimed, “I didn’t think you’d be good at that!”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Étienne countered, “I have managed to hunt off the land since a child; do you think it’s all fun and games living isolated on an island where no one can get to you?”

“I just meant, sometimes some skills fade,” Caroline fumbled, before taking a calming sip of her juice.

“I think I’m still better at archery though,” Edward added slyly, taking the heat off of Caroline.

“You wanna bet, punk?” Étienne teased, “I’m fairly certain with all your chicken tending, you may have forgot to feather an arrow.”

“Please, the arrows feathered with Esther’s dropped feathers are mean like her,” Edward sniped back.

“Who’s shooting Esther?” Edith’s voice interrupted. She had arrived earlier than expected, causing them to shuffle around to let her have a seat at the table. With no apologies she began to help herself to the food.

“No, using her feathers for bows,” Edward explained.

“Mmm,” Edith responded her mouth full of food, she swallowed, and then turned to Étienne, engaging him in conversation, mentioning how she had gone to the farmers market, her smile widening as she said she had managed to nab some fricking delightful doughnuts.

“I really love that farmers market,” Étienne remarked, “It always has delicious food.”

“Yup, and the artisan work is always interesting, to see what people make. I get some of my best clothing pieces there.”

“Is the dress you’re wearing from a local artisan?” he referenced her vintage looking yellow polka dot dress.

“No, it’s from a store on Whyte though, I like their vintage aesthetics; plus this dress is great for going swimming, because it slips on and off so I can wear my bathing suit comfortably underneath.”

“Smart-”

Their conversation was cut short when their driver arrived. Étienne had not known that they needed a driver, but when a rather bashful looking man entered the kitchen, Étienne tried to place where he had seen him before. There was something familiar, but he could not quite figure it out. He was a rather waifish looking man, with his long red hair pulled up into a bun. His long tapered fingers were clutching at a file folder, and he seemed to shoot a nervous glance towards Calvin, who was busy helping Edward clean the dishes.

“Jericho!” Mac’s greeting was loud and unexpected, causing Étienne to jump slightly in his seat; realizing that Étienne did not know the situation, Mac brightly explained, “Jericho is gonna drive with us down to the river, and pick us up after, since obviously we won’t be in the same place after driftin’ down for six hours.”

“S-six hours?” Étienne said weakly.

“Hell we got no place to be,” Mac said in a reassuring tone, somehow Étienne was not reassured. “Gives Jericho here some time off in the Big E. Jericho, this is Chuck’s friend Etsy –errr Étienne, he’s a big wheeler from Montreal. Jericho’s our assistant cum service man.”

“A pleasure to finally meet you… after listening to Calvin yell at you all week… Did you drive up here just to ferry these louts around the North Saskatchewan?” Étienne asked curiously.

“No, got family here,” Jericho piped in, “I was here anyway, plus there’s some stuff I need to do for business, so this is technically a working day.”

“On the long weekend?” Étienne cast a reproachful look towards Calvin.

“Jeezus you makes it sound like we’re slave driving, he volunteered,” Mac laughed, “Otherwise we’d be with someone else driving.”

Feeling somewhat reassured that this anemic looking man was not being abused, Étienne took another look at him. He was rather good looking, either in his late twenties, or early thirties. As he turned to discuss something with Calvin, Étienne was surprised that the man had an open, firm posture, as if ready for whatever may be tossed towards him. Where he expected an air of a kicked cat, he was surprised to see Jericho trade a sarcastic jibe with Calvin, and as he continued to observe he realized that instead of a beleaguered underling, Jericho was a trusted associate.

Finishing his food, Étienne found himself out of the loop of conversations, but not really minding, enjoying hearing Caroline butt into the conversation with Jericho, clearly demonstrating that the person in charge of their business was her.

“You done with that?” Ed’s voice cut in to Étienne’s observations, and he realized his plate was empty. “I’m gonna clean up now.”

“Yes, I can help.”

“You don’t need to.”

Étienne gave Edward an exasperated look that stopped further protests.

“So we’re going to be on the river for six hours?”

“More or less, depends on the current and such,” Edward said as they cleaned up. Caroline, Mac, Calvin and Jericho had left the kitchen presumably towards Calvin’s office to discuss business. Edith was busy texting on her phone, apparently not even pretending to care about cleaning up.

“Oh… so are we canoeing?”

“Mmnno.” Edward handed Étienne a dish to dry, and glanced out the window towards the chickens, who were pecking happily in the yard, “They’re not gonna be happy being locked up in the pen again.”

“Why?”

“Because there are predators… never know when a lynx might stop by and desire some chicken dinner.” Edward explained, looking back to Étienne, “Though I suppose their fate has already been sealed as dinner.”

Shock expressed itself over Étienne’s face, “You’re planning on eating them!?”

Giving him a soft smile, Edward shrugged, “Oh well, if they die of natural causes, it’s a waste of good range run chicken to bury it, eh?”

“You can’t be serious!” Étienne protested, “How can you think about serving Esther on a plate?”

“Perhaps with some basil and thyme from the garden?” Edward responded with a rather wicked smile.

“Wicked, you are wicked!” Étienne hissed, giving Edward a light punch on the arm.

“Hey now, I bet you won’t complain when she’s on the plate,” Edward continued to tease as he handed Étienne the last dish.

“I have sworn off chicken forever,” Étienne solemnly vowed.

“Uh huh,” came the skeptical grunt, as Edward looked towards Edith, and then around the kitchen to make sure he had got everything cleaned up. “Edith, who are you texting so fervently?”

Looking up from her phone, she gave a shrug, “No one.”

“That no one seems to respond a lot… is this the mysterious lover?” Edward asked as he walked towards her, making a gesture as if he wanted to look at her phone.

Quickly exiting out of the chat, and turning the phone face down, Edith stuck her tongue out at him, “Never telling!”

“Rude,” Edward looked back towards Étienne, “Isn’t she being the worst?”

“No,” Étienne frowned at Edward, “You are for proposing eating your hens.”

“God, one might think you didn’t grow up in the 1800s with how prudish you’re being.” Edward sighed.

“Tell him Edith, it’s scandalous!” Étienne gestured toward Edward.

Edith looked between the two men, and narrowed her eyes, and then she looked back to Étienne, “They’re gonna die somehow, and I think it’s great to honour them roasted with a side of potatoes.”

“It’s like eating family!” Étienne protested, and Edward noticed that he was in fact genuinely distressed.

“Look, Etsy,” Edward sighed, “If it makes you feel better, you don’t have to be here for the celebration-of-life chicken dinner, ok?”

“I – what makes you think I’d still be here with you chicken murderers?”

“Ohh,” Edward smirked, as he poked Étienne in the stomach, “As you said, the more you eat the less you can fly outta here. Is that some pudge I feel?”

Slapping at his hand, Étienne tried to get away, only to make a soft strangled sound as Edward began to tickle his stomach, and he found himself trapped against the kitchen counter. “/Stop stop. Oh my god, Eddie/” he gasped out, trying to suppress his laughter, he had forgotten that one of the unfortunate aspects of Edward knowing his body so well meant he knew exactly where to attack at these moments… but that meant he also knew how to attack.

Calvin poked his head into the kitchen, and looked towards the two men having a tickle fight, and then to Edith, who was staring at them with mild disgust on her face, before cutting in “Alright you two stop flirting, we should probably start getting ready to go.”

Edward jumped about a foot, giving Calvin a rather guilty look as he instinctively pulled his hands away from Étienne, who was leaning against the counter trying to catch his breath.

“Right,” Edward clapped his hands, “I should get the sandwiches and stuff out of the fridge and into the cooler.”

“Uh huh,” Calvin shook his head, as if trying to get rid of a thought, and then was cut off when Caroline appeared.

“Are you guys slow or something? What’s the hold up? Everything’s secure on the truck, Calvin’s even put the chickens safely away.”

Stuffing some more ice into the cooler, Ed looked up, “We’re nearly ready here too. Also, did you all make sure to go to the bathroom? It’s gonna be a while before we will have such amenities.”

“Yes mom,” Caroline tittered, earning a tired look from Edward. Calvin wisely did not respond, only casting a long-suffering look towards Étienne a look that seemed to say ‘he does this all the time’. Étienne simply smiled, remembering his comment of before of Edward momming everyone.

Finally, once everyone had gone to the bathroom, Étienne helped Edward carry the cooler out to the garage, while Calvin walked ahead with the picnic basket. Much to his consternation, they gravitated towards the largest truck, the one with the four smoke stacks. With a heave they slid the cooler into the back, as it conveniently slid under the wooden raft strapped into place. There were other sealed containers, the contents of which Étienne did not know. Along the left side of the truck bed, a blanket was laid out.

Patches was enthusiastically sitting in the front passenger seat of the van, head popping out the window, and gave an excited bark. It took Étienne a moment to realize that Caroline was also in that seat with the large dog sitting on her. He wondered how the heck she was surviving, but she didn’t seem bothered.

Étienne looked at the people milling around, confused that Mac was driving – why was Jericho there if Mac was driving? How were they all supposed to fit into the truck? There was at least two extra people.

“Alright Étienne, you get to sit in the back,” Edward instructed.

“Ok… why is Mac driving?”

“Uh? Because it’s his truck?”

“But… Jericho?”

“Oh right, Jericho is here to drive the truck down to pick us up, plus Mac isn’t going to be sober by the end of the river run, so gotta be responsible here.” Edward smiled, “Anyways, you get to sit in the back with Edith and Jericho.”

“Ok… but where are you and Calvin going?” Étienne frowned, still confused.

Gesturing toward the blanket, Edward winked, “We lay down in the back and enjoy the ride.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

In response Edward raised his eyebrows, “Are you going to be lecturing me about law now, Bouclés?”

“Maybe I have reformed?” Étienne snapped back.

“Don’t believe that for a second,” Edward responded in a deadpan tone.

“The lack of faith of me pains me,” Étienne mock clutched his heart.

“Are you two gonna yap all day, or can I get into the back?” Calvin interrupted.

“Right darlin’,” Edward said, “If you can help me up into this behemoth?”

“Sort of reassuring that you are still short enough to need my help,” Calvin said as he braced himself, placing his hands on Edward’s hips, while Edward placed his hands on his shoulders. “One… two…three.”

On the number three, Edward did a hop, and with the help of Calvin, got his ass onto the truck bed.

Finding this display irritating, for reasons Étienne did not want to think about, he gravitated towards the passenger door to take his seat.

Calvin banged on the back window to let Mac know that they were ready to go, and the truck started up. The conversation in the cab did not fully start up until they were well on the way. Edith was busy looking out the window, while Jericho was leaning back in the middle, head resting against the back of the chair with his eyes closed.

“You ever been on the river, Etsy?” Mac asked, breaking the conversational silence, which had been filled by the soft strains of country radio.

“Yes, of course,” Étienne responded, “But many years ago, by canoe.”

“Canoe, eh? How long ago was that?”

Casting a side glance towards Jericho, not sure how much he exactly knew, Étienne simply said, “When I was young and wanted to be a fur trader.”

Jericho’s eyes popped open, “That’s an odd hobby for a kid.”

Étienne shrugged and smoothly lied, “My parents humoured me? I think they were happy to get me tired out with canoeing.”

“Must have been a handful huh? I can see why you hang out with these guys,” Jericho said, closing his eyes again with a slight smile.

“You could say that,” Étienne murmured, as he glanced out the window, watching the buildings pass by - if he guessed right they were nearly at the city limits - remembering how different everything had been when he had first visited. He had run away from boring farming to become a voyageur, the repetitive responsibilities grating on him even at a young age. He had enjoyed the freedom and comradery of the other voyageurs, the excitement to meet others like him, discover their different histories, and build connections with people whom he might not have met otherwise. Back then it was inconceivable that travel would have sped up so much, where one could enter a metal tube and fly across the country in a mere eight hours to see someone. The only concept of speed was in a train, and back then a train was only a story to him. Rivers were the way of life, the most efficient way of traversing difficult territory, when the country had still been mainly wilderness.

He remembered his first vision of Fort Des Prairies, for that is what he had known Fort Edmonton as, a place of trade. The wooden palisade that protected the two rival companies rose up into the sky, the smoke from the fires filling the air, mud everywhere. It was on a small grassy rise up from the river, the area around cleared out for fire wood and building materials. He had wondered if this fort had someone like him, or if it was too young. Forts came and went so fast that there was not even time for the thought of permanence to conjure one of them. He had also heard rumours that there were places where the persons like him were left for dead, the community not understanding their existence. Even now he was not sure how they came into existence, probably a roulette of fate.

Following his travel companions into the fort to check out the furs, Étienne had curiously looked around, wondering if he could recognize without being told the person who would be like him in the same way. The tensions between the North-West Company, which his group were employees of, and the Hudson’s Bay Company had them remaining on opposite sides. There was intense competition between the two companies to be as profitable as possible. Étienne always found the Hudson’s Bay company to be annoying, copycat-like in their business practices. Where they had been perfectly fine to remain outside of the interior of the land, making the aboriginals come to them, the French Canadians had been impatient to explore, starting up their own fur trade company in Montreal. A very successful company, that Hudson’s Bay always seemed to be one step behind, stealing the ideas and outposts, until this ridiculous and tense truce was found at the confluence of this location, ideal as a crossing point where peoples had naturally met to trade.

The first day he was disappointed, he did not see the person like him, but he did hear some promising rumours about a strange child of the fort who had been adopted by a Métis trapper. He had gone to bed dreaming what this child looked like, and when he had awoke with hope he was disappointed once more. The trapper had not returned yet, and when asked about the schedule, there was some vague response, but dates here were never set in stone. The fort ran on the seasons, not the days. Dogs were literally everywhere throughout the fort, and there were warnings that he should not be out after dark because they got vicious then.

A half week had passed, and he had been squatting on a log by the river when he heard a great ruckus nearby, followed by a child’s laugh.

<You are so bad!> the words were in some strange backcountry French mixed with Cree. Standing up to investigate, he followed the sound, and discovered a magpie sitting triumphantly out of reach as a small child was jumping trying to regain something it was holding. <This is not for you!>

The magpie squawked and hopped to a lower branch, obviously teasing the child, and Étienne realized that in fact they were playing. He shifted and the magpie seemed to notice his presence. It let out a loud squawk, as it dropped the item onto the kid’s head and then flew up onto a tree right above Étienne giving more squawks to pointedly direct the child’s attention to the stranger.

<Where are you going?> the child asked, before turning around and letting out a small scream when he noticed Étienne standing there watching. His first impression was that he was arrested by the child’s hazel eyes, with mossy depths and shades of the trees, where if he wanted to he could step inside the other’s mind and see the entire history of the place.

“We should be there in about twenty minutes,” Mac’s voice broke into the reverie, snapping Étienne back to the current time. Shifting slightly in his seat, feeling guilty at zoning out, he tried to pay attention to the conversation between Edith and Caroline, which seemed to be about some food fair they were planning to attend.

XXXXX

The sun was hot as Étienne finally opened the passenger door to exit the truck. He stretched his leg out, and positioned himself to hop down. They had picked a perfect day to enter the water, and as he stretched, he could hear the back gate of the truck open. He had been amused that the boat launch was in Voyageur Park, almost fitting for his memories. Curious, he looked, and couldn’t help but smile, as he watched Edward pause before hopping down into a crouch from the high truck bed. It was so well practised it was obvious that this was probably a part of his everyday life.

“You gonna help unload, Etsy, or just stand there gapin’?” Mac’s voice cut on, and Étienne lifted his hands.

“What do I need to do?” he followed Mac towards the back of the truck, where Edward and Calvin had already unpacked the food and other containers to the side.

“We need ya to helps haul the raft out, it’s a sturdy little fucker, better with everyone helping out.”

With some effort and instruction, the raft made it out of the back of the truck, onto the ground.

“Can’t put her into the river yet, she’d just floats away,” Mac explained as they opened up a container and took out deflated water crafts. Just as Étienne was worried about manually blowing up each of the various crafts, an air pump appeared. Not one, but two. One was a foot pump and the other was a hand pump.

Edith immediately began inflating the giant doughnut innertube, which Étienne assumed she was laying claim to. Caroline was using the hand pump to inflate a long plastic mattress type flotation device, which no doubt she planned to lazily lay upon. He turned to see what the others were doing, and saw Edward rubbing a very thick layer of sunscreen onto Calvin. Calvin was laughing as Edward affectionately rubbed a smudge of it upon his nose, their faces leaning in closer conspiratorially, obviously continuing a conversation started from laying in the back of the van together. Looking away, he took his top off, deciding if he was going to be on the water he would prefer to tan more.

“Geezus Etsy, your tattoo artist has done and fucked up!” Mac announced loudly as he stared at the man standing there topless. “He stuck a wild rose slap dab on your chest! That flower ain’t matchin’ the other roses there. I’d be real mad if I were you.”

“Que—I…” Étienne stood there ears burning, he cast a quick glance to Edward who was still applying sunscreen to Calvin, and said in a low voice, “It wasn’t a mistake.”

“Whaaaaaat?” Mac leaned in and inspected the tattoo with a frown, “That was intentional? How come?”

Gathering what bravado he had left, and glad that Edward apparently did not hear the loud exclamation, too busy in a heated conversation with his boyfriend, he said with a shrug, “Simply a memento, the other flowers are on my city flag…” he went on to describe them. “What about yours?”

“Uh well obviously shoulder tattoo is wild rose and oil…” Mac said, “To be honest, probably not very original. As he turned to answer Caroline’s call for him to help her apply sunscreen, Étienne took in a sharp breath, as he noticed the dark burn scar on his back; it was deep, almost as if were he to touch he could still feel the fire.

“Choose a floaty before they’re snapped up,” Edith’s voice cut into his musing, as she held her large tube.

“Uh… I can pick any one?” Étienne peered into the container, trying to figure out which one he would like.

“Technically yes…”

“Technically?” he raised his eyebrow. “So you can probably tell me which one to not choose?”

“The irritating red one with flames is obviously Calvin’s.”

“Obviously.”

“So you are left with the large navy innertube.”

“What about the other one?”

“Are you really going to fight Mac over his floaty rubber duck ring?”

“I---” Étienne was at a loss for words that Mac would be the one to want to float upon a giant rubber duck innertube. Somehow the idea was delightful. “No. What does Ed ride?”

“Hmm the navy one.”

“But if I’m on it?”

Edith shrugged, “I don’t know, I didn’t pack this shit.”

“You are certainly a helpful person to have around,” Étienne said lightly.

She smiled at him and winked, “I do my best.”

“Best what?” Calvin’s voice interrupted as he grabbed his inner tube.

“Oh, she was trying to help me pick a flotation device…” Étienne explained.

“Well you get the giant purple tube under the blue one there obviously,” Calvin explained seriously, as he pulled it out and handed it to Étienne. “It even has a nice pillow and a bottom so your ass isn’t dragging in the water the entire time.”

“Great!” Étienne exclaimed while simultaneously looking at Edith silently asking if she had known about this extra one all along. In response she simply smiled and walked away. Opening the box, he caught a whiff of the brand new smell. “Did you buy this for me?”

Calvin shrugged, “Well you seem to keep staying around, and we can’t just have you sadly sitting on the raft with all the beer while we float around you.”

“When did you even have time to?” Étienne asked puzzled.

“Oh geez, Ed texted me when I was down in Calgary and I picked it up there before coming back up,” Calvin’s response was a little weak as he was ambitiously blowing up his tube with the hand pump.

Taking the foot pump, Étienne unfolded the tube and began to inflate it, not sure what to say. He realized he didn’t have to, as Calvin finished inflating his tube, and then without even being asked, worked upon Edward’s. The silence was companionable; the only sounds the effect of air entering the tubes. Finishing, Étienne tucked the packaging back into the container.

“Hey before you head down, did you put sunscreen on? You should probably also wear a hat,” Calvin brought up.

Étienne sighed, “I don’t want to wear a hat, and I tan.”

“Sun safety is no joke!” Calvin said, as he gave a few more vigorous pumps to the tube, before sealing it. “Let me put the sunscreen on.” Realizing he had no choice, Étienne stood there, and let Calvin approach him with the sunscreen. The cream was warm, and he held his arms out, not minding the rhythmic manner in which Calvin spread the sunscreen across his back.

“Are you this diligent with Edward?” Étienne asked.

“No, I try to, but he usually doesn’t need it, because he tans so well.” Calvin said as he moved around, and began to rub the cream into his skin, “Geez, Mac was right, your tattoo did get fucked.”

Étienne sighed, “You talking about the wild rose?”

“Mmm,” thoughtfully Calvin’s finger brushed against it, as his eyes flicked up to meet Étienne’s gaze, “That was a nice save back there with Mac. Memento huh?”

Looking away with a slight flush, Étienne grumbled, “I wasn’t lying, and I have no idea what you are trying to imply… I think I can finish putting the sunscreen on.”

“Heck I’m nearly done, no need to get all pissy,” Calvin said, as he rubbed his hand against Étienne’s stomach, adding more quietly, “I’m not gonna tell.”

Moving away, Étienne shook his head, “Look Calvin, you’re reading too much into nothing. Thanks for applying the sunscreen.” Saying that, he headed down the silty path, wearing the cheap canvas shoes Edward had tossed at him in the morning.

Ahead he could see Caroline wrestling with Patches, strapping the dog into a specially made doggy life jacket. Seeing his look, she smiled, “He’s too bouncy to ride only on the raft, this helps him float. When he’s tired he lays on the raft.” She indicated the wooden raft, sitting partially in the water, the cooler locked into place, while Mac standing beside it in deep conversation with Jericho, obviously giving him instructions of some sort. Setting his feet into the water, Étienne shivered at the chill. Jericho confirmed the plans to Mac, and then, obviously no longer needed, walked away back to the truck, putting away the containers and air pumps.

“Aight Etsy, if you could put your tube on the beach while we carry this baby out?” Mac asked.

Doing as instructed, Étienne grabbed one of the convenient hand holds and helped float it out into the river. It took a little scrambling but soon everyone was floating down the river, preferred drink in hand, around the raft in the middle.

The banks may have changed shape but he remembered them, and he found once more his mind drifting to long forgotten memories. Meeting a human who knew more explanations for what they were, hidden in the recesses of Fort Des Prairies.

His mind however had other thoughts, the memories once brought up surging strong, the world of the far past coming back in strong waves as if to drag him back to the undertow when the world held promise and adventure. Étienne had simply stared at the child, somehow sensing that they were alike. The child seemed to have this sense as well, as his head tilted, brow furrowing, <Are you one of the earth spirits? Like me?>

<Yes.> he answered, before remembering perhaps he should introduce himself, his name, <You can call me Étienne.>

<You’re named after a person, not a landmark?> the child inquired.

<No, that’s my name, separate from my town… don’t you have one?>

The child had shrugged, and then as if remembering, bent down and picked up the object the magpie had been taunting him with, and Étienne saw that it was a shiny brass button with something embossed on it. Polishing it, the child finally said, <I don’t know, my name changes with the people who come.>

<That’s why you need to choose your own name, something to go by,> Étienne explained as he moved forward, his curiosity getting the better of him. <What is that?>

<Something Nohtawi gave me,> trustingly the child held it out, and Étienne noticed it had some sort of crest upon it.

<That’s what I call him anyway, hey! You should meet him! I think he would be excited to meet you, c’mon.>

Étienne found his hand being grabbed as he was literally being dragged in a direction entirely opposite of the fort. The memories of this man, whom Ed referred to as his father, Nohtawi in Cree, sometimes were crisp and clear, and other times faded like an underdeveloped photograph. Closing his eyes, he could see him crisp and clear, the heavily weathered face, the hooked nose, the small scar on his cheek, knobbly fingers, his age indeterminate enough to be an age of both a father and an elder.

<Nohtawi, Nohtawi, I found another earth spirit!> the relationship was clearly defined, and Étienne wondered how long this man had been looking after the child, and whether the child would understand the loss of such a person when the time came.

<Another one?> The man had sounded surprised, as he studied Étienne, <Whose tribe do you belong to?>

<France…> he paused, <Iroquois. I … it changes.>

The man nodded, <Yes, I have noticed. I am lucky, it is rare to meet one earth spirit, but three… when I was very young, I saw one of my tribe, a woman. To see her was good luck, or so the elders said. Her wisdom was respected by even the greatest chief.> he looked away in thought, <I have not heard of her visit for some time now, the younger ones, they forget… so when amiskwaciwâskahikan appeared they thought him a demon. The newcomers do not understand the spirits of the land.>

“I can’t believe that you would really think that, Calvin-” Edward’s upraised voice drifted up the river, snapping Étienne out of the memory. Ahead of him Edward and Calvin in a heated debate. He could only catch snippets of the conversation when they forgot to lower their voices, but as he glanced towards Edith who was floating next to him with a beer in hand, he had the feeling that this may be a serious fight.

“Are-are they alright?”

“Mm?” Edith grunted looking over at him. Étienne made a gesture towards the two men ahead of them. “Mmnnn yeah. They’ll be making up in about an hour or a day, hard to tell.”

“You mean… this type of fighting is normal?” Étienne asked with a frown. He was under the impression that Love’s Young Dream communicated clearly on all levels, including alien hieroglyphics.

“Mmyeah, it’s creepy isn’t it? How well they get along.” Edith shuddered, “Brrrr.”

“This is them getting along?” Étienne frowned, he could tell that Edward was extremely agitated. To be fair, he and Edward had shared a few heated arguments over the years. Such as the fact that Edward had kept stealing his paintings – ‘preservation’ he had called it. Once he had discovered Étienne simply painted over them because he was too cheap to buy a new canvas, Étienne had his paintings start mysteriously missing only to be replaced by new canvas. He had been extremely angry over this, hell he might have thrown a few punches over the matter… but now as he looked back upon it, he found the entire situation annoying but endearing. Whatever happened to his missing paintings? Kept in some dark storage somewhere, maybe the attic? Perhaps he should raid the attic when he got back, recover some of his old canvases…

“Mmhmm,” Edith took a sip of beer, and lowered her shades over her eyes, “They’ve been fighting since their existence.”

“True,” Étienne frowned, memories of previous fights, or mentions coming back to him. Edward complaining about Calvin all throughout, whether Calvin had made a bad deal, or was being very annoying over a sports bet… as he looked at the two men, however, he wondered what they could be fighting about today.

Edward seemed to say something that made Calvin look rather hurt, before, rather deliberately, using his legs to push against Calvin’s flotation device, propelling him further down the river, clearly indicating that whatever they had been discussing was over for now. Curious, Étienne however was distracted when Patches appeared beside him barking for a head pat.

“Hello there,” he said warmly, petting the dog. He had the sense of security that if something happened to him, this dog would not hesitate to protect him. Even though wearing the safety jacket, Patches was vigorously paddling.

“Do you wanna play catch with him?” Mac’s voice asked, closer than Étienne expected the man to be, nearly causing him to flip out of his purple tube.

“S-sure,” Étienne automatically responded. Immediately, Mac produced a rather grungy looking tennis ball, his look serious, in a way a mismatch to the rather comical sight of the rather burly man lazily floating in a rubber duck floaty.

“This is his favourite ball, if you lose it, I will personally kill ya.” Mac threatened.

“Rethinking playing catch right about now,” Étienne quipped.

Smirking, Mac said, “Jeezus, just kiddin’ around on ya, here, I get these in those discount tubes cuz Patches eats them up like confetti.” Saying this, he hucked the ball out into the river, and immediately Patches swam after it, barking in glee. “The trick is to throw it up river, otherwise the ball gets more easily lost. Hell once I thought I might have lost him down river doing that…”

“Oh?” Étienne responded, watching as Patches enthusiastically paddled back to them, plopping the ball into Mac’s lap.

“Mmm, here you try.”

Taking the wet ball, Étienne tossed it, and it fell with a small sad splish not exactly a stone’s throw away.

“I think you need some more practice, ever think of taking up baseball?” Mac teased.

“Please,” Étienne sighed, “That’s still a sore subject with me.”

“Huh? Is it?”

Giving him a rather pained look, Étienne said, “The Expos?”

“Ohh right, professional baseball still exists, hell I stopped following once the Trappers left,” Mac shrugged.

Their conversation drifted, punctuated with them taking turns to toss the ball for Patches, who didn’t seem to be tiring out.

“How is it having a dog?” Étienne found himself asking. He used to keep pets, before things got really fucked up, but after a while their deaths were too often. Their smaller lifespans hurt more than humans, where the trusting love taken away left you with the empty indent of where the animal used to sleep.

“Good,” Mac said, pausing, as if considering his next words, “Better than I thought it would be, I mean, Patches helps me keep clean. Can’t be too fucked up when taking care of a dog, right?”

“Fucked up?” Étienne asked genuinely curious, taking a sidelong glance to the strained and stubbled face of the other man.

“Mm, y’know the usual crap one gets into with too much money, and not enough sense,” Mac shrugged, “Isolated? Check. Hell of a lot of money? Check. Lack of common sense? Check. Bring on the coke, eh?” he laughed at the last part, “Geezus, that stuff I still crave.”

Letting out a long breath, Étienne nodded, “I can relate.”

“And here I thought those in the centre of the universe didn’t have such problems,” Mac said, “But perhaps we ain’t so different.”

“Centre of the universe?” Étienne laughed, “Sometimes it feels like everyone forgets I’m an island.”

“C’mon, no man is an island,” Mac gently teased, giving Étienne a brief smile, “The bridges exist. Hell pretty sure someone could just float on over.”

Snorting at the idea of Samuel floating on over on Mac’s giant duck, Étienne shrugged, “I suppose. What made you change?”

“Change?”

“Y’know…” Étienne waved towards Patches who was paddling back to them furiously.

“Ah. Long and complicated, or short and sweet?”

“We have six hours.”

“Probably more on five…” Mac corrected, and as he took the natural pause to once more toss the ball, he seemed to gather his thoughts. “Sometimes you just crash on down, and nearly lose everything, and sometimes the parts you think have been the best days where everything flows, when yer in the rubble looking at everything crumbled around you, there comes the realization that perhaps what you were doin’ was not so good.”

Étienne wanted him to explain further, but kept quiet, letting him speak, the river flowing around and between them acting temporarily as the connecting bridge between two opposite poles.

“Cigarette?”

“Yes,” Étienne breathed in relief, and took the lit offering, placing it between his lips, sucking in the nicotine like an old lover.

“Make sure not to puncture your flotation device,” Mac teased, as he lit his own, and gave it a puff, “Aaah, a life without vice is one not worth livin’.” Above them a hawk soared, its form blackened by the sun above as it hunted. “My existence is a roller coaster, with very good highs, and very bad lows,” finally came the continuation, “Work hard, party hard. Sometimes being the villain gets ye down, when all ye does is the work they wants from ya and rob ye blind. So it’s easier to… forget. Ended up accidentally quitting cold turkey back in sixteen.” Giving a small smile, Mac laughed heartily at the memory, “Found myself hurtin’ real bad and somehow on Ed’s couch, y’know how he is. No hard drugs at his house, and when I wanted more, found m’self strapped to the bed to shake it out.” Shaking his head, he sighed, “That man is the worst and best friend one could ever ask for.”

“I know,” Étienne said quietly, he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but it felt like certain things were clicking into place. Times where Edward suddenly had to disappear to deal with a situation at home, his face closed off with anxiety. Apparently he wasn’t the only one being pulled out of the worst situations. He was not sure how to feel about this revelation, and as he looked down the river at Ed, who had floated a little closer to their flotilla, he wondered how it could be that he entirely understood when Mac said he was the best and the worst.

“Say you never did tell me how you two became such good friends,” came the forced change of conversation, and Étienne wondered how much he should even tell.

“What’s this?” Edward had paddled up to them, or more accurately, he had paddled up to the raft in order to reach over and pull a drink and a small sandwich from the cooler.

“Mac wants to know how we became good friends.” Étienne explained.

Popping the entire sandwich into his mouth, Edward chewed, swallowed, and simply said, “Fur trade.” He then took a swig of his lemonade.

“That’s pretty simplistic,” Mac whined, “You traded with a lot of people, but I don’t see you being all snuggly with Vernon.”

“Who exactly is snuggly with Vernon?” Edward asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well Calvin is pretty snuggly…” Mac shrugged, “Well… as snuggly as Vernon gets.”

“Exactly.” Edward smiled, “Well, we traded, became friends, got into trouble together, usual shit that creates friendships.”

“I want stories,” Mac complained, as he paddled up to the raft, and grabbed another beer (carefully placing the empty into designated container).

“Stories on what?” Caroline’s voice drifted over, she had apparently finished her engaging conversation with Edith.

“I wanna hear the dirt on their friendship,” Mac explained.

“Dirt?” Calvin’s voice cut in, “Hmmm which dirt do I tell?”

Blanching, and shooting Calvin a don’t you dare look, Edward said, “Well there was one time we partied so hard at Expo 67 Samuel had to send the police to look for us.”

“You’re bullshitting,” Edith burst out.

“No it’s true,” Étienne confirmed, “We ended up getting lost.”

“How on earth did you get lost in your own city?” Caroline asked curiously.

“We got caught up with a group of young Irish men, who were very generous with their drinks and wanted a personal tour of the city,” Étienne added, “Somehow we ended up outside the city and the Expo at… Joliette.”

“How on earth-“

“Étienne is very bad at giving directions while very drunk,” Edward explained with amusement.

“That’s nothing compared to Calvin,” Caroline tittered, “He ended up in Saskatchewan once trying to find a Dairy Queen.”

“You swore never to tell!” Calvin whined, gently splashing his sister in revenge.

“Please tell me more,” Edward encouraged, Caroline was glad to do so.

The river twined lazily as the stories began to be related, each one getting more and more insane, the focus shifting off of just Edward and Étienne, as each person tried to outdo the others in craziness.

It was with surprise that the city skyline appeared before them, the time having passed so pleasantly that Étienne was almost sorry to have this lazy river float end. Almost.

As they pulled up to the boat launch, canvas shoes hitting the rocky bottom, he could feel himself wobble from the amount of alcohol he had drank. He had not intended to drink so much, but Mac kept everyone well supplied whenever a beer appeared empty.

Frowning, he looked over to Edward, “There was no chardonnay or potato chips.”

“What – oh I... I was just teasing,” Edward shrugged, “beer and home made snacks is all you got. Sorry.”

As he stepped forward, dragging his tube, Étienne stumbled, his hand flailing out, and steadying upon Edward’s shoulder. Shit, he was far drunker than he had intended to get. “S’fine. This was good.”

Jericho was waiting for them, helping them deflate the floats, and carry the raft onto the truck, and with little ado, drove them back to the house, and herded them inside.

Mac announced loudly that after they showered and changed, that everyone had to play pool. Calvin had already thundered up the stairs ahead of them, the announcement clearly pleasing him. Edith had sighed, and mumbled something about using the guest bathroom, as she grabbed her duffle bag and disappeared into it. Étienne, feeling a little at a loss of what to do or where to go, since his usual bathroom was occupied, felt relieved when Edward pulled him aside. Étienne was feeling pleasantly buzzed, and was interested when Edward approached him and asked him to follow him.

As they went up the stairs, it took all of Étienne’s brain power to not simply stumble up them. Ed led him into a room he had not yet explored, Étienne’s eyes widened in surprise as he found some of his old paintings hanging upon the walls of what he could only determine to be Edward’s office. It was an eclectic but neat layout, a desk, books, computer… along with a sewing machine upon a table, and carefully stored sewing knickknacks.

“Ahh so that’s where you put my art?” he accused.

“Hmm?” Edward looked to where Étienne was pointing, as if remembering that the pieces existed, “Oh yeah, well no point in keeping them in the dark, but… if you don’t like me having them up I can take them down.”

Leaning against the table in order to hide his lack of balance, Étienne shrugged, “I don’t mind, I had been wondering what your plans were, with how many you stole.”

“Preserved.”

“Hmmnuh.” He was looking around some more, admiring the light pastel purple wall, the floral edging. The Oilers paraphernalia around the room. “Why are we here?”

“Oh,” Edward had pulled something out of a drawer, and he began to unroll it revealing it to be a measuring tape. “I need to get your measurements for your romper.”

“You don’t have to make me one,” Étienne protested awkwardly, regretting leaning on the table, as Edward trapped him against it to take some measurements. “

“I have this perfect material for you, I bought it on a whim at a fabric sale… had no use ‘til you, so you’re stuck… stand up straight.”

“Aren’t you too drunk to take accurate measurements?” Étienne asked, if he was feeling tipsy after six hours of pretty much binge drinking and snacking, what was Edward feeling? Mac had not been stingy when it came to the strong beer.

“You may not have noticed, due to not actually looking into the cooler, and simply lazily taking the food or drink offered you, but I did pack non alcoholic lemonade.” Edward said amused, “I had like maybe two beers max.”

“How come? Couldn’t you be the designated driver if you were going to play sober?” Étienne asked curiously; he held his arms out and stood as still as possible, as Edward measured him. His heart was thumping at the proximity of the other man, Edward was close enough so that Étienne could feel his breath upon his arm as he took the measurements. He moved the tape across the chest, lightly touching him, fingers brushing against his collar bone.

“Oh hmmm I didn’t want to cause a scene with Calvin, usually when I get drunk I tend to lose sight of the people around us… when we fight…” Edward muttered as he squatted down, and then leant in as he took the measurement of Étienne’s inner thigh. His fingers lightly brushed against Étienne ’s calf as the measuring tape took in the length of his leg. “How long do you want your shorts to be?”

“Mid thigh.”

“Hmmm.” Came the disapproving sound.

“What is wrong with mid thigh?”

“Summer stick,” Edward said, and then as if feeling the other man’s confusion, “Y’know when you sit down, and the sweat melds your skin into the seat… and when you stand up, the tearing sensation.”

“Ah, I can survive summer stick for fashion, you forget who you are talking to, who needs function over fashion?”

“Right, irrational insanity, I remember,” Edward teased, standing up and writing down the measurements.

“Can I ask… why?”

“Hmm? Why you’re insane? Hell if I know.”

“Why you and Calvin were fighting…” Étienne tentatively floated out. Probably shouldn’t be asking, but he was curious as to what could disturb Love’s Young Dream.

It seemed as if Edward was taking a little too long to write down the measurements, and as he put the pencil away, and set the note on his paper pile, he finally looked over to Étienne. “I don’t feel like lying to you, so I will simply say, it’s something that is extremely irritating, and that I don’t want to discuss with you.”

“Fair enough,” Étienne said the next words slipping out before he even had time to process their existence, “Do you lie to me often then?”

Giving Étienne a soft punch on the shoulder, Ed said, “Really, this again?” Then added in a teasing tone, “But… when I do its white lies usually.”

“Not sure how to feel about this,” Étienne complained as he grabbed Edward before the other man could get away, he pulled him close and wrapped his arms around Edward’s waist, warning bells buzzing in the back of his inebriated mind that this was probably a bad idea. He slid his left hand up, tilting Edward’s face to look up at him instead of away, getting direct eye contact, he asked quietly <So what have you lied about? Is there something I should know?>

There was a hesitation, as if Edward was about to tell him something, his gaze flicked down to Étienne’s mouth, back up to his eyes, as if struggling with something. “You’re drunk, Étienne,” he finally said, working to pull away from Étienne’s surprisingly firm grip. “You’re getting a little too flirty here, please let me go.”

<What if I don’t want to?> Étienne teased, he was enjoying the feel of the other man pressed up against him too much to let him go, the alarm bells in the back of his mind seemed to grow louder, <Flirty, hmm? You call this flirting? Has Calvin been ignoring you if simple touch is flirtation?> as he said this, he ran his finger along Edward’s jawline, in a decidedly flirtatious manner. Tilting his head near Edward’s, brushing noses, Étienne added, <Is this too flirtatious for our friendship? How many rules am I breaking, Edward?>

Edward’s breathing had rapidly increased, his pupils dilating, whispering, <All of them.>

Mere millimetres, Étienne thought, as he lowered his mouth, capturing Edward’s in a soft meaningful kiss, any rational thoughts lost in too much sun and alcohol. The words were forming in his mind, dangerous words, he knew he shouldn’t say. Edward had hesitated as their lips touched, a momentary lapse as if enjoying the kiss, before rather forcefully he pushed himself away from Étienne, breaking the other man’s grip.

Bright red, he shook his head, left hand convulsively clutching his right arm, looking anywhere but at him “Étienne you’re drunk, you don’t mean these actions, um maybe you should go lie down or something, sleep it off.”

<Why are you brushing me off Edward? When are you going to-- stop avoiding me?> the words he had tried to suppress began to slip out, fast enough so that he had to quickly twist them to hide what he truly wanted to say. Avoiding? Hell, he wanted to ask when Edward would come back to him… an impossible question to answer.

Edward snapped his gaze to Étienne, startled, confused, and slightly angry, as he sarcastically replied. “Well you’re literally visiting me, not sure how this is avoiding? Are you imlying the future? With my job and what with your school schedule, logically Christmas would make the most sense. Hardly count that as avoiding.”

<That’s not what I meant,> Étienne fumbled the words, slurring them, hating himself as he dug himself further into this hole.

“If I had known you were this fucking drunk I wouldn’t have measured you, geez you always get like this when you’re totalled,” Edward huffed, as he made sure to keep out of Étienne’s reach, “Fucking handsy and saying shit you don’t remember the next day.”

“Eddy—” Étienne’s voice had risen slightly into a drunken whine as he stepped forward and stumbled up against the desk.

Stiffly Edward turned away, and left the room, leaving Étienne alone, surrounded by his stolen paintings, and the abandoned sewing projects of Edward.

However, he did not disappear for long, for a half dressed, damp Calvin appeared.

“He’s drunk as fuck, y’know, handsy, and I think he might have gotten too much sun, due to not wearing a hat,” Edward was explaining, “I don’t think he can make it down the stairs so he’s gotta crash on our bed.”

“Ahh right,” Calvin said, probably with a little too much understanding as to what Edward was saying. “C’mere cowpoke, let’s get you to bed.”

Étienne tried to shy away from Calvin, not pleased at his appearance.

“Bouclés,” Ed sighed as he stepped closer to his friend, taking his hand, “C’mon to bed.”

Hesitating, he looked towards Calvin as if trying to see what he thought of this; Calvin simply grabbed his other hand.

Sighing, knowing when he was beat, as well as not having enough brain power to resist, he let the two men lead them to their bedroom and towards the bed, where he ended up splaying face down and closing his eyes in relief.

“His glasses,” Edward muttered, and Étienne felt his head gently lift, and the glasses be removed.

Breathing evening, he could feel himself begin to fade.

“Ed, can we talk?” Calvin’s voice was low, as if not wanting to wake Étienne.

“Now?”

“Please, I just… gotta get this cleared up. I didn’t tell you because I was… afraid at the time, everything was such a mess and I didn’t want to y’know bring him up because…” Calvin’s voice got a little choked sounding as he struggled to find the words, “Because I thought I was about to lose you for good… and... when I got back home and you were there… well, I didn’t see the point. And then time passed and… it seemed less relevant. If I knew it was going to really hurt you, I wouldn’t have kept silent.”

Edward let out a long breath, “I’m still pretty irritated about this, but if you give me some time I’ll calm down… I mean, you’re not entirely wrong about nearly losing me then.”

There was a sound, as if they kissed, and Étienne listened as they left the room, presumably to play pool, and knowing that he was not supposed to have heard that conversation.

#quatschfic #pc: edmonton #pc: calgary #pc: montreal #pc: ft mac #pc: fort mcmurray #pc: bowness #pc: strathcona #erugh #august long weekend

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buddyrabrahams · 6 years

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10 most important players remaining in the NFL playoffs

One of the Kansas City Chiefs, New England Patriots, New Orleans Saints, or Los Angeles Rams will be crowned Super Bowl champions in less than a month, and it’s fun to think of which players might end up getting each team there. Many are obvious, but all are of vital importance. If these ten players play their best, it’s hard to stop them, and it’s easy to see how they can win a game for their team at the most important time of the year.

Here are the ten most important players left in the NFL playoffs.

10) Michael Thomas, WR, Saints

Thomas had a dominant game against the Philadelphia Eagles, going for 171 yards receiving against the reigning Super Bowl champions. That means that whomever the Los Angeles Rams have covering him is going to be facing a very tough task, and it wouldn’t be any easier for any potential AFC opponent in the Super Bowl. Thomas is a favorite of Brees and a threat in every way, and if the Saints win the Super Bowl, expect him to be a big reason why.

9) Chris Jones, DE, Chiefs

Traditionally, the best way to beat Tom Brady in the playoffs has been to rush and harass him with a good defensive line. The Los Angeles Chargers couldn’t do that last weekend, but perhaps the Chiefs will have better luck in the AFC Championship. Jones had 15.5 sacks for Kansas City, and they’ll be relying on him to bring the heat against Brady and New England. He’d be important in a potential Super Bowl against another elite offense, too.

8) Sony Michel, RB, Patriots

Michel faces a tantalizing matchup against the Kansas City Chiefs, whose run defense has been deeply flawed all year. He’s coming off a career game against the Los Angeles Chargers, and the expectation is that the Patriots will lean hard on the run against Kansas City. Michel appears to be rounding into form at the best possible time, with a vulnerable opponent coming up and a quarterback who’s a big enough threat to ensure that teams can’t just stuff the box and bottle him up.

7) C.J. Anderson, RB, Rams

Make no mistake: Todd Gurley is important to this Rams team, too. But if C.J. Anderson is matching him yard-for-yard while going for 100 himself, the Rams’ offense takes on a different dimension. Anderson shocked the Cowboys with his 123 rushing yards, helping carry the Rams to a 30-22 victor. He’ll probably be employed in a big way going forward as long as he keeps on producing. It’s too early to call it sustainable, but an Anderson-Gurley two-headed monster presents a problem for every team left in the playoffs. And if the Rams can figure out Saints secrets the way they did with the Cowboys, they’ll be unstoppable.

6) Travis Kelce, TE, Chiefs

The New England Patriots know a thing or two about tight ends who are matchup nightmares, but usually they’re the ones inflicting it. On Sunday, they’ll have to find a way to defend Kelce, who will exploit zone coverage and is capable of beating man as well. One of the best tight ends in the sport, Kelce will look to punish New England, and they’ll have to have a gameplan for him. The Chiefs have many weapons, but their star tight end is a unique one.

5) Jared Goff, QB, Rams

Sometimes it’s hard to know what to make of Goff. On the surface, his stats are good — 32 touchdowns and over 4,500 passing yards. However, he wasn’t sharp against Dallas and was largely reduced to a game management role. That won’t do against New Orleans or against either remaining AFC team. His home-road splits are worth watching as well. The bottom line: When Goff plays well, the Rams usually win. He’ll have to be at his best however long the Rams keep playing.

4) Aaron Donald, DT, Rams

It’s fair to say that the Saints — and neither potential AFC foe — has seen anything like the Rams’ dominant defensive lineman. New Orleans held him in check during their regular season meeting, with Donald not really impacting the game. That can’t happen again if the Rams hope to escape New Orleans with a win. If Donald isn’t getting into the backfield, pressuring Drew Brees, and blowing up plays, it’s easy to see the quarterback sitting back and picking apart the Rams’ secondary. He faces a big challenge Sunday.

3) Drew Brees, QB, Saints

Once an NFL MVP candidate, Brees was seemingly passed by Patrick Mahomes late in the season as the New Orleans offense stagnated a bit. That doesn’t reduce his threat, though. Brees is experienced and one of the game’s elite passers. If given time to work, it’s hard to see how the Los Angeles Rams’ secondary stops him. Like every other quarterback left in the playoffs, if he plays well, it’s tough to see his team losing. He wasn’t completely sharp against the Philadelphia Eagles, and with what he hopes are two games to go, he’ll want to be much better.

2) Tom Brady, QB, Patriots

Brady feeds on doubters, as was made clear in a postgame interview. And while the Patriots haven’t been written off quite as much as the quarterback might have you believe, it’s fair to say some people have been skeptical of their staying power in these playoffs. A motivated Brady is a frightening Brady, and he gets even more frightening facing a vulnerable secondary like Kansas City’s. Brady may not have the weapons he once had, but he still has enough to beat anyone on his day. Nobody in these playoffs has more experience in these spots than he does.

1) Patrick Mahomes, QB, Chiefs

Mahomes is definitely the most exciting quarterback left in the playoffs. No disrespect to anyone else, but his array of sidearm slings and no-look passes are unmatched by his rivals. Those alone don’t win you games, though, and Mahomes is going to have to come up big after starring in something closer to a supporting role against Indianapolis. The Patriots can play defense — ask Philip Rivers — and Mahomes will be relied upon to ensure the Chiefs move the ball and score enough points to hang with Tom Brady. A Super Bowl wouldn’t be any easier. However this plays out, the next one-to-three weeks represent the biggest challenge yet in his young career.

from Larry Brown Sports http://bit.ly/2STT0VC

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puspaallamanda · 6 years

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Last Time With Him (Takagi x Satou angst one shot) part 2

Satou took photographs of her with Takagi which taken while Takagi still healthy. There are so many embarrassing poses and Takagi's flat and priceless face in the picture. In the photographs, they went biking together, eating hamburgers together, watching the Kamen Yaiba show together ... Satou show the photographs to Takagi and whispered,

"Takagi-kun, of course you want to do all of this again, right?"

He stared at his lover sharply. Of course, he wants. He wanted to do those fun things with Satou again. He nodded slowly.

"Of course, Satou."

"Then," Satou held his pale and thin hands, and give a little kiss on his hand, "I want you to do something for me, Takagi-kun."

"What is that?"

"Win, Takagi-kun. Please. I beg you. You can't lose." And, for the first time since Takagi sentenced to suffer from brain cancer, Satou cried in front of him. "You are a fighter and a warrior, Takagi-kun. You always fight without giving up when you catch the criminals, I beg you, do the same thing now."

Takagi smiled weakly. Can he promise that to Satou, the woman he loves? Might be a different story if this is a battle in solving a case, or battle to catch criminals. He will snort a laugh and told Satou that she did not need to ask him to win, because, of course, he will try hard to win. But, this is a different fight. If he and Satou want to do all of it again, why must wait until he recovers? Both he and Satou did not know whether he could recover or not. They have so little time. And he said in a hoarse voice, and tired,

"Satou, I can't promise that you, because I don't know if I can keep them. We don't have much time, Satou. To eat a hamburger together, watch the Kamen Yaiba live show together...No need to wait for me to 'win' first, right?"

"Takagi-kun ..." This time Satou sobbed louder. Although she always hides all of it, even though she was always trying to look tough, as if her boyfriend suffered only ordinary fever, deep down, she felt very miserable. She has lost her father, her ex-boyfriend, and she will also lose the man she loved so much, in a short time.

"Then, what would you do first?"

"It's up to you, my love."

"Burger? How about we eat a burger together?"

Takagi nodded.

Satou then asked for permission to doctors to bring Takagi to the burger stand they usually came to in Kyoto Park. Everyone in the park looking at Takagi who looks very weak in the wheelchair and Satou who pushed him with pity looks. They don't need to ask, they don't need to guess. They know that Miss Miwako was trying to please her lover in his last time before death really separated both of them. The burger seller hastily wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt while giving two servings of burgers to both of them.

When eating his burgers, Takagi looked around and could feel people's pity looks to him. He didn't like it. He hated it. Why all of them have to feel sad too with his condition? People who don't even know him? They just make all of it more difficult for him. Occasionally he glanced at Satou. She's still smiling. But Takagi knew it was a fake smile because Satou's smile didn't reach her eyes. Takagi knew what was in Satou's mind. Can I do this again with Takagi-kun? Is this time is the last time I ate a hamburger with Takagi-kun? Definitely, that was on Satou's mind. Takagi didn't like it. Takagi didn't like to see the sadness in Satou's eyes.

Maybe I could cheer her up and make her laugh out loud.

Takagi then pushed his wheelchair forward a bit, then pressed the burger he was eating to the front of Satou's robe. Satou jumped and surprised. Now the front of her robe full with sauce and mayonnaise. Satou glared at Takagi, and could see her lover who was seriously ill were smiling slyly. Satou understands. Takagi wanted to joke and laugh with her.

"Wataru Takagi, you naughty boy! See retaliation from me!" cried Satou, then pressing her hamburger to Takagi's cheeks. Takagi's cheeks now full by sauces and mayonnaise as well. Both Satou and Takagi laugh out loud. Takagi then writes 'I love you' by using the leftover sauce scattered in the front of Satou's robe. Satou then writes 'I love you too' by using the sauce splattered on Takagi's cheeks. Takagi laughed weakly.

People in the park turned back to them. They were amazed. Yes, amazed. Especially to Satou. Even though she knew her lover won't live much longer and she will lose Takagi in the end, Satou is still able to laugh. Laugh happily to entertain her lover, who she might never be able to marry.

After washing her face and Takagi's face, Satou rotates Takagi's wheelchair and heading to the ice cream stand. Satou bought an ice cream cup with strawberry flavor for Takagi and feeds him. Suddenly, a rabbit jumped into Takagi's lap. Takagi strokes the white cute rabbit with affection.

"She's so cute, isn't it? According to you, what is her name and where's her owner?"

"Yes, Takagi-kun. I think she has no owner. She jumped out of that box, there is an inscription 'please adopt me' in the box," said Satou, pointing her finger toward the box where the rabbit is earlier. Takagi frowns.

"Then, I'll adopt her."

"Takagi-kun, you know you can't. After all, who will take care of this rabbit? We may not bring a rabbit to the hospital. Your doctor will be angry. Come on, put the rabbit back in the box, Takagi-kun, certainly, there will be another person who wants to adopt her. Come on, Takagi-kun."

Takagi hugs the rabbit tightly.

"I don't want. What if no one wants to adopt her? What if she'll rain and starvation? I will not stay in the hospital forever, Satou."

Satou finally sighed and gently stroked Takagi's remaining hair. "Okay. You can keep the rabbit. But you have to be prepared if you scolded by the doctor later."

"Don't worry. I will name this rabbit Miwataru."

"Miwataru?" Satou laughed. "It's a unique name, Takagi-kun, but why did you choose that name? Why not choose a different name?"

Takagi grinning. "It's an abbreviation of the name of both of us. Satou and Takagi-kun."

Satou laughed again. With a bit of exasperation, she pinched Takagi's cheeks. "All right, Mr. Wataru Takagi, animal's knight in shining armor. It is time we returned to the hospital. Doctor Raymond permit you go out just for an hour."

Takagi moans. He wants to take a walk in the park with Satou longer, but he could not protest. Finally, he nodded slowly. On the way home, Takagi force Satou to stop for a moment in a flower shop. He bought a purple orchid flower for Satou and force Satou to slip that flower in her robe pocket and on the back of her hair. Satou can only grin with amused over her lover's attitude.

They returned to the hospital, and as predicted by Satou, Doctor Raymond scolded Takagi for bringing a rabbit to the hospital. But, after Satou begged, and persuaded him, and muttered something that all of them have to make Takagi always happy with granting all his wishes until his last moment, Doctor Raymond finally allowed Takagi to keep the rabbit in the hospital.

And Satou felt grateful they found Miwataru. Because Miwataru makes Takagi became more cheerful and seemed to forget his illness.

Today is Satou's birthday. And Takagi still lying weakly in the hospital. Doctor Raymond did not allow him to go home. Takagi wanted to go home. He wanted to buy a gift for Satou. But he could not. Then, aided by Shiratori, he finally drew a picture as a gift for Satou.

The picture was a picture of him and Satou, from youth to their old age. Next to each picture, he wrote of their age and what will happen in their life at that age. The first picture is a picture when he and Satou were first officially dating. He wrote, 'Takagi and Satou, ages 26 and 28. Fall in love with each other.' The second picture is the picture of him and Satou became a bride and groom in front of a church. Next to the image, he wrote, 'Takagi and Satou, aged 30 and 28. Married and officially became Mr. & Mrs. Takagi.' The third picture is a picture of him and Satou carries several children. Next to the picture, he wrote, 'Takagi and Satou, ages 36 and 38. Have 11 children and their own football team.'

When Takagi showed the picture to Satou, Satou didn't know whether she must smile or cry. Because she knew the possibility of the picture that Takagi drew to become reality was very small. But she laughed at the third picture.

"11 children? You sure you want to have 11 children, Takagi-kun? And oh God, haha, you on your 36-years-old really ugly, Takagi-kun," Satou said as she pinched and kissed Takagi's forehead. "I love this gift, Takagi-kun. It's excellent. Thank you very much, honey. I love you."

"Happy birthday once again, Satou. I love you too."

He rolled under the blankets. He shivered. It has been almost a month he stayed in the hospital. His body feels cold and sometimes feels hot, and it made him feels very uncomfortable. He knows, his time is getting closer. His time is almost running out.

"Takagi-kun, honey? Are you still cold?" Satou whispered softly. He was unable to answer. He just nodded his head weakly. Satou took another blanket and covered him again. Although three stacks of blankets had wrapped his body now, he still felt cold and shivering. Satou then hugged him tightly, and for a long time. Perhaps her arms will make Takagi feel a little warm. And, it looks like she succeeded. Because not long after she embraced Takagi very tightly, Takagi stopped shivering and fell asleep.

Could it be the miracle that always awaited by Satou, will become a reality in the end?

Takagi was bored. All the Kamen Yaiba DVDs that Satou brought has been watched by him. Even playing mahjong was boring for him now. Stroking and playing with Miwataru also can't make his boredom disappear. Satou wants to comfort him. How can I make Takagi-kun didn't feel bored? When she saw an old doctor who passing by Takagi's room, Satou has an idea.

"Takagi-kun, to make you won't get bored, let's play a game."

"What game, Satou?"

"Startled a doctor game!" Satou said, giggling a little. Takagi raised his eyebrows.

"You mean?"

"You pretended to be dead and then I call the doctor. If they want to examine you, you startle them with wake up suddenly and shouting 'I'VE GOT YOU!' How, Takagi-kun? Sounds fun, isn't it?"

Takagi laughed weakly. "Alright then."

#detective conan #case closed #meitantei conan #wataru takagi #takagi wataru #satou miwako #miwako satou #takasato #miwataru #angst #fanfic

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filipeteimuraz · 6 years

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What is Vero? 9 Things About the New Social Media App

Remember Orkut? Or Friendster? How about MySpace and Classmates?

Maybe you do, maybe you don’t, because social media platforms come and go faster than most of us can keep up. For every success like Snapchat, there are plenty of others that failed to gain any serious momentum, even if they were fun and innovative ideas.

Are you familiar with Vero?

You know Facebook, of course, and Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, LinkedIn, and WhatsApp. They’re good (though not perfect). You probably use them at least once a day.

But we don’t find one platform that we like and stop. According to a recent study of social media in the United States, most people use an average of three of the top eight platforms.

Facebook and YouTube are used by a significant percentage of those on other sites and apps. Consider them the stalwarts. Most people have an account on those two behemoths (Facebook has 2.167 billion and YouTube 1.5 billion users) and at least one other platform.

But do you know Badoo, Snapfish, Tout, or Line? The point is, there are hundreds of social media platforms out there that you’ve never heard of, for virtually every niche, interest, or group of people.

Some won’t make it or be worth your time. But others may be the platform you’ve been looking for…

And that brings us back to Vero.

What is Vero Social Media?

The words “revolutionary” and “game-changer” are tossed around too much these days.

That said, I’m going to throw caution to the wind here. What is the Vero app? It’s nothing less than the evolution of social media. It’s both revolutionary and a game-changer. It’s true social.

Vero labels itself “more social, less media”, and with its focus on providing a natural and ad-free experience, it’s hard to argue with it. Initially launched a couple of years ago by billionaire Ayman Hariri, movie financier Motaz Nabulsi, and venture capitalist Scott Birnbaum, the platform has only started to take off recently.

Why exactly is anyone’s guess, but growing frustration with Instagram and its incredibly unpopular algorithm, combined with a growing number of data leaks on other platforms, may have been the catalyst.

According to Google Trends, Vero’s popularity as a search term has been steady albeit not spectacular over the past year. The spike seen above occurred around the time the Facebook data breach became big news and people were looking for alternatives.

Regardless of why, the app shot up from outside the top 1500 on the App Store, to #566, and finally #1 over the course of just a few days. It has since gone down again, but is seeing faster growth than at any other time in its history. Vero recently passed 3 million downloads.

“We wanted to build something that stood for something beyond a gimmicky, one-feature thing. We wanted it to be an extension of how you want to express yourself. [On other social apps] you’re performing for the crowd. Research shows that people are becoming more and more negatively affected by having to do that all the time. We wanted to create an online social network … that allows you to just be yourself.”

~Ayman Hariri, CEO of Vero

The Vero app strives for transparency where the other platforms prefer working behind the curtain.

Vero v. Instagram v. Facebook v. Twitter – Differences

On the surface, the Vero app is very similar to mainstays like Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can post photos, videos, and links, share locations, or recommend books, music, and films. Others can like and comment on what you share. Sound familiar?

But it distinguishes itself in some very important ways: No ads. No algorithms rearranging your posts and limiting who sees what. No data mining. Chronological feeds.

In fact, Vero makes public its manifesto and business model for anyone interested in what they do, and why they do it. Vero believes that people naturally seek connections, and that explains the explosive growth of social media over the past 10-15 years.

Here’s what it all boils down to according to them:

But as time passed, an imbalance began to form between the interests of the platforms and the best interests of the users. We made our business model subscription-based. making our users our customers, not advertisers.

Basically, you are the product sold to advertisers on other platforms. Facebook makes billions selling ads to brands and companies based on the data they collect from their 2.167 billion users. You are not a customer to them. You are a product to be sold.

The same is true for Twitter and Snapchat and Instagram (owned by Facebook, lest we forget).

Vero takes the opposite approach. By using a subscription-based model, they’re beholden only to their users.

Every decision, every tweak, every new feature, every change to their design and interface needs to keep their users happy and satisfied. They need to respond to the needs of their users. They have to address the complaints of their users.

The user is the customer. The platform is the product. And that is a revolutionary idea in social media.

But that’s not all. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, LinkedIn, and others want you to spend as much time as possible on their platforms. They want you to engage in mindless scrolling of feeds for hours each and every day, because they collect data on your browsing behavior.

The more users they have, the more they can charge advertisers.

The longer you spend browsing feeds – which are increasingly becoming mostly ads and sponsored content – the more they can parade those statistics in front of their customers.

1.40 billion daily active Facebook users who spend an average of 20 minutes on the platform each visit is an enticing potential audience for an advertiser.

American adults spend an average of 25.29 minutes per day on Facebook. And they want you to continue doing that.

You don’t need me to tell you that social media is addictive. It’s designed that way. In fact, Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter send out notifications intended to pull you back in to their platform over and over again throughout the day.

Here, once again, Vero sets itself apart.

While they do want you to use and enjoy the app, they also want you to be aware of how much time you spend on it.

To that end, there are no push notifications, and they are the first and only social media platform to include usage info on your dashboard. You can quickly see how much time you’ve spent on the app each day and each hour of that day.

The others don’t want you to think about that. Vero very much does. As they say, “social media should enhance your life, not detract from it.”

That too is a game-changer.

9 Things You Need to Know About Vero

There’s always a bit of a learning curve when you start using a new app or service. New features, new ways of accomplishing tasks, new terminology, and so on.

The Vero app is similar to other social media in some ways, and very different in others. It’s not well known…yet. Let’s take a closer look.

1. Vero was Launched in 2015

As mentioned earlier, Vero is no overnight success. It was launched in 2015 to little fanfare, and failed to generate much attention. It did reach #45 on the App Store, but quickly fell out of the top 1500 apps on the platform.

Its popularity over the past few years has been steady but unremarkable, with just a few hundred thousand downloads prior to its recent surge. But, as the saying goes, slow and steady wins the race.

Towards the end of February 2018, it had about 500,000 users. It doubled that in just 24 hours, adding 500,000 new users on iOS in the US alone.

Vero hit 3 million registered users on both Android and iOS in March 2018.

2. The App was Started Because of Personal Frustration

The men behind Vero weren’t looking to revolutionize the social media landscape. They were simply frustrated with what was available, and the pain-points of the major platforms.

To begin with, feeds on Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter are subject to some mysterious algorithm that decides what to show, who to show, and when to show it. Those sites long ago abandoned the chronological feed, showing content from newest to oldest, much to the chagrin of users.

And then, of course, there’s the advertising issue. Over the past few years, the amount of ads and sponsored content in a typical feed has been creeping up. Platforms like Facebook are funded by those advertising dollars, so they’re more concerned with keeping their advertisers happy than their users.

“When I did [join existing social networks], I found the options for privacy were quite limited and difficult to understand, and when I decided to get on and connect with a few of my friends, I noticed that their behavior online was very different than their behavior in the real world.”

~Ayman Hariri

On traditional social media, we tend to overshare and – for lack of a better word – “exaggerate” our accomplishments and activities because it’s going to be seen by everyone.

The team behind the Vero app wanted to eliminate all of that.

3. Posts Can Be Photos, Text, Music, or TV shows

Or places, videos, films, and books. This allows you to truly share where you are, what you’re watching, reading, or listening to with your connections.

The app is geared towards a visual experience – just like Instagram – so even a post about a book you’re recommending will automatically feature an image of the cover. Likewise for a song, album, movie, or television show.

Photos and videos can be shared from your gallery, or you can opt to take a new one with your camera directly in the Vero app.

4. Friends v. Followers

They’re not the same.

Friends are people you actually know in the real world.

Followers (or fans) are those that choose to follow your account for some reason, usually because they enjoy your content.

Would you share some big news or a personal tragedy with strangers on the street? Probably not. You’d go to your close friends. But on social media, it’s an all-or-nothing situation that demands we either share with everyone or no one.

Vero makes it easy to differentiate between the two groups. In fact, they’ve created 4 categories (more on that in a minute).

5. Vero is Free. For Now.

The app will eventually work on a subscription model, requiring users to pay a few dollars each year.

When they first launched, Vero planned to give their first million users a free-for-life account, but with their recent uptick in downloads, that offer has been extended.

It won’t last forever, though. In order to provide that ad-free experience, they do need to generate revenue in some way.

The subscription fee – which will likely be less than the price of a cappuccino at Starbucks once every 365 days – will allow them to keep advertisers out and the customer experience their main and only concern.

In addition to that, Vero is using affiliate links on recommendation posts.

Click on a book, song/album, or downloadable film or show, and you’re instantly taken to the corresponding purchase platform where you can opt to buy it. If you do, a small portion of that sale will go to Vero.

6. You Can’t Register for Vero on Their Website

Registration for Vero can only be done via the app. There is no option to sign up on their website.

7. Users Can Categorize “Connections”

This is another key differentiator between Vero and Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, and the like. Instead of only having one large group – fans/followers – there are actually four different categories for each connection you make:

Close Friends

Friends

Acquaintances

Followers

Every time you publish a post, you’ll be able to select which groups will see it with a simple sliding bar.

Want to share something with only your closest friends? No problem. Have another post to send out to everyone? Piece of cake.

You have complete control over who you share with…just like in real life.

8. Vero’s Interface is Different from Facebook and Instagram

You’ll immediately notice the color scheme is nothing like the other platforms. We’ve all experienced the slap-in-the-face bright light that comes with checking your Facebook feed at night. Vero uses a black background with white text and teal highlights. It looks great, and is much easier on your eyes.

There are no usernames on Vero like we see on Instagram and Twitter. You set your first and last name, and that’s what people see on your posts (although there’s nothing stopping you from using something other than your actual name).

And if you’ve ever struggled with making your photo fit the required square or rectangular shape and still look great, you’ll appreciate the fact that Vero accepts images of all shapes and sizes. No cropping required.

You can choose to edit your photos in the app itself – including a variety of filters like Instagram – but you don’t have to make any changes if you don’t want to.

Along the top of your homepage, you see five icons (L-R): search, your user profile, collections (everything shared with you is organized into categories for easy search and retrieval), notifications (you’ll receive one whenever someone wants to connect with you so you can accept and categorize them…but don’t worry, as only you can see what category you’ve assigned them), and chat.

Hit the “+” button to share a new post, and you’re whisked away to the Create Post page. Select your post type – Camera (including stuff from your gallery), Music, Book, Link, Movie/TV, or Place – and share. Make a recommendation (or not), add a comment (or not), and finally select the connection categories that will see it. Done.

From your user profile dashboard, you can manage your connections and account settings, review your previous posts and those shared with you under collections, send and review connection requests, and monitor your usage info.

9. You Can Add an Avatar

I know what you’re thinking: big whoop. All social media platforms let you set a profile picture or avatar. That’s true.

But Vero takes it a step further and lets you set up to three different avatars for the three main categories of connections. Your close friends will see Avatar A, while acquaintances will see Avatar B.

You may want to have a bit of fun with your “close friends” avatar while presenting a more professional image to your “acquaintances”. Head to Settings > Avatars > Use Three Avatars, and select the image you want for each group. Easy.

Should You Join?

It depends. Vero is a relatively new social media network, and that comes with some growing pains and glitches. The app is officially still in Beta.

It has somewhere in the vicinity of 3 million users so far, but that obviously pales in comparison to Facebook’s 2+ billion, Instagram’s 800 million, or Twitter’s 330 million. If you’re looking for everyone to be there, you may want to wait a bit longer.

Some big names have already jumped on the bandwagon, though, including Rita Ora, Selena Gomez, and Zack Snyder. Look for the check mark icon to indicate an official and verified profile, but be aware that your favorite guilty pleasure (Kim Kardashian, anyone?) may not be there.

But – and this is very important – if you’re tired of the ads, the algorithms, and the extinction of the chronological feed, then yes, you should join.

How to Use Vero

If you’ve ever signed up for a social media account, you’ll find Vero a breeze to get going. Even if you’ve never had a social media profile (those people still exist, right?), you’ll still find it a piece of cake.

1. Download the Vero app

Vero is available for both iOS and Android.

2. Sign up

Once you’ve downloaded and installed the app, you’ll have to provide a few details to get registered: your first and last name, your email address, and your mobile phone number. Within seconds, you should receive a text message with a 4-digit PIN that you need to enter in order to continue. This is used to verify your telephone.

3. Add an avatar

After registering and verifying your details, you can write your brief bio – you’re given up to 150 characters – and select your avatar from either your image gallery, or by taking a new photo within Vero itself.

4. Add connections

Your feed may look a little neglected at first because you’re not following anyone and you haven’t posted anything yet. But that’s easy to fix.

You can search for profiles to follow by name, hashtag, or keywords. Find the personalities and brands that matter to you, and follow them. Reach out to your friends, and connect (and assign them an appropriate connection category).

Add new connections at any time by clicking the teal + in the top-right corner on your connections dashboard.

Another great feature in Vero is the ability to filter what you see from every connection. Have that one friend who posts 30+ cat videos every day of the week? Turn off videos for that one person, and those damn cats will never clog your feed again.

5. Start posting

With a few connections under your belt, click the “+” button and make your first post. Share what you’re reading, watching, or listening to right now. Or let others know where you are right now. Or share a thought, photo, or video.

With its unparalleled control, you only share what you want with whom you want, and only see what you want from whom you want.

And everyone sees it all ad-free and in chronological order.

Conclusion

Social media isn’t going anywhere. Social media marketing is a crucial cog for any business or brand. Platforms rise. Platforms fall.

Will Vero buck the trend of “suddenly popular, gone by next week” that plagued apps-of-the-week like Peach and Meerkat? Only time will tell, but you have to admire the foundation and core beliefs behind the platform.

Less media. More social. No ads. No data mining. Be a user, not a product.

True social.

Have you checked out Vero yet? Why or why not? What’s holding you back?

About the Author: Neil Patel is the cofounder of Neil Patel Digital.

Read more here - http://review-and-bonuss.blogspot.com/2018/04/what-is-vero-9-things-about-new-social.html

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