#chicago did have some good options which is how i know everything sucks now

[unopenablebox]

unfortunately i am covetously watching the eater video that's just a tour of zabars

[moonloredraws]

House of Blood

A story about an overworked and stressed out individual who goes to a vampire brothel for some consensual hypnosis to start off her holiday off work.

M Vampire x F Human (NSFW, tw hypnosis , tw vampire biting ) 4277 words

---  Life had been a cycle of stress and problems, and things had been spiralling for you recently. Your job had become too much to handle, your co-workers had once again proven to be unreliable and your boss had been more unreasonable than usual. Things had been hectic.

Your holiday had come up, fortunately. A couple of weeks away from the incessant stream of issues was a welcome reprieve. You had planned on enjoying yourself, treating yourself to some new clothes and other goodies. 

You had even decided to go to the local smut bookshop. The Moonlore Bookstore had always piqued your interest, but you'd never really had any reason to go in. The interior was surprising, the inside seemed much older than the modern facade of the building led you to believe, but the atmosphere was cozy and welcoming. The front was a cafe, with the back half of the space hiding the books behind some discreet dividers. It had an unusual vibe for a place to buy erotic books.

The thing that most had stood out was an extensive board of flyers, business cards and other advertisements of all kinds.

This was clearly a busy place that many supernatural beings frequented, but that made sense, given how the owner seemed of elven descent and her husband was a werewolf. Much of the ads were specific services for the variety of creatures that shared the human world, though much of the ads were for different places that you hadn't even heard of. Why would there be adverts for services in Amsterdam, Chicago, London and some other notable cities all in one place? It boggled your mind.

However, as you scanned the board with curiosity, you noticed a stack of discreet ash grey cards with a bright red embellished pair of lips. They stood out, and you looked a bit closer.

“Are you stressed? Want to have your worried sucked away?Come to the House of Blood for a fresh reset.”

It was in your area, too. 

  You had never heard of such a place before. You unpinned one of the cards, and took a closer look. It seemed like some kind of establishment run by vampires. Brothels run by the supernatural community was nothing new, but you had never frequented something like it before. Your gut twisted with excitement. You had never really cared for such things, but something about having your stress relieved fast and possibly having fun on the side tickled your fancy.

With your new treats and purchases, you went home, and did some more digging on the House of Blood. It had a discreet website, and it was definitely a brothel of some kind, as you had suspected. It seemed legit, had a small gallery of some incredibly well dressed vampires, some information on the workers and the owner, and you gave a sigh of relief at it being legit.

It did have a appointment form, but encouraged people to go there in person to have a chat about the different options they offered and what would be most appropriate for the client. 

  So you got yourself hyped up. This was all new and exciting, and you waited until an hour after night-fall. Following your phone's GPS, you made your way to the place. It was in an alley off a very busy street, which may have rung some alarms bells if it weren't for the beautiful state of the alley. It was clean, no dumpsters, bright neon signs lighting everything up and with a clear big sign next to the door. You let out a breath you didn't know you had been keeping, and slouched your shoulders as you walked to the door nervously. The beautiful ashen door had the same red lips on it as the card, and you nervously turned the handle, and entered into a small hallway that had some stairs leading upstairs.

Climbing the red carpet covered stairs, you looked around at the rich reds and ashen colours of the interior. Clearly the same person had designed this place and the vampire run nightclub in the area. Or maybe the owner was the same. Perhaps, though, they simply kept up the same “vampire aesthetic” for the other people around. You weren't sure. However, as you got to the top, you came to a brightly lit waiting room. There was a desk of bright cherry red plastic, and behind it was a woman, her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun, with lipstick to match the desk and a slouchy cream coloured sweater. 

  “Welcome to the House of Blood! I don't believe I've seen you here before?” said the woman, her cheeks lifting as she smiled. You nodded as you walked closer, still a bit nervous.

“It's my first time here, yes,” your voice wavered, as you came up to the desk. “ Well, welcome! I'm Amandine, but you can just call me Mandy. Since you're new, I need you to fill out a simple questionnaire, and a little form. I'll help you through everything, so don't worry about it if something is unfamiliar!”

Her cheerful and helpful disposition helped put you at ease, and you swiftly filled in some details, the medical history part took you by surprise, but it made sense. Vampires drink blood, after all. 

  The 'little form' ended up being a pretty big list, actually. Most of it was kinks and things that you would be alright with in a sexual situation. What intrigued you was the box marked “hypnosis”. 

  “What does that involve?” you looked curiously over to Amandine. “Is that something like becoming puppeted...?”

Amandine shook her head, giving a slight chuckle. “No, when we 'hypnotise' people, it's more like we induce a state of intense tunnel vision. You'll feel things more intensely, and I haven't found an easier way to say this, but it just makes you very horny. We haven't found a better term, so we just use 'hypnotise'.” “Huh,” you hummed at it.

“Since you're looking at some stress relief, I do suggest that. It's very difficult to have your mind wandering while under the effects.” Amandine added helpfully. That sealed the deal. All in all you weren't really looking for a very extreme interaction, you just wanted to have some fun, but the added benefit of not having to worry about much seemed too good to pass up.

Amandine settled the paperwork, clipped it all together, and then pointed at one of the doors. 

  “You'll want to go to room 4. There are no locks, for client and worker safety, but rest assured, nobody except the right person will walk into your room,” she gave a playful wink as she stood up and walked to a different door in the lobby, directly behind the desk. 

  “There's a box for your clothes, and there's a fluffy robe, if you'd like to get into something more comfortable, waiting for you in the room.”

You nodded, butterflies tickling your stomach as you walked through the door, into a well decorated hallway, to a door with the number 4 on it. Cautiously, you opened it, and entered.

The interior was plush. There was a soft looking bed, and a couch, and a door to bathroom. Everything was some sort of red or dark grey tone. You found a small night stand, and a fluffy maroon robe. 

  You did as Amandine suggested, and stripped completely, shoving your clothes unceremoniously into the empty nightstand's drawer. The rest were filled with a pile of sex toys and condoms. Your cheeks flushed as you quickly put the robe on and went to sit down. 

  Your current situation began to dawn on you, and you restlessly played with your hands. Before you could get overwhelmed with doubt and stand up to put your clothes back on, you heard a knock on the door.

“Come in!” You squeaked. It was happening. No turning back now.

The door opened and a tall, pale skinned man slid in, a tray in his hands with two cups and a teapot. Your heart skipped a little as he flashed a fanged smile at you, dimples appearing on his cheeks.

“I'm Xavier, please to meet you!” He quickly set the tray down, and went to shut the door behind him. You nervously introduced yourself, noting how much your voice was shaking. 

  Xavier had a fluffy mop of wavy brown hair, and a slight 5 o'clock shadow painting his jaw. His eyes were a friendly brown, and if it hadn't been for his fangs, you could have sworn he was just some guy who didn't get outside much.

 He wore a lightly cream coloured shirt, an intricately patterned green and gold vest, and some brown dress pants. He seemed much too overdressed to be part of a brothel, he'd be a much more fitting sight in a themed host club. 

  “No need to be so nervous. You're here to have a good time, right?” Xavier said as he sat down on the couch, placing the tray between the two of you. “Mandy said you preferred chamomile, so that's what we have.”

“Can vampires even drink tea?” The question had left your lips involuntarily, and Xavier let out a chuckle.

“Eating and drinking depends on what kind of vampire you are. Most turned vampires have a hard time processing food and some drinks, but I'm a born vampire, I can deal with this all just fine.”

You let out a 'huh' at that, and then picked up one of the cups which Xavier had filled with tea.

“So, a little bird told me that you've been dealt a bad hand by life at the moment.” Xavier took a sip of his tea. 

  You nodded, and began to tentatively recount some of the more frustrating events. Soon, you let yourself get more relaxed, and your gestures become more intense as you vented your worries, and Xavier ended up being a very good listener. 

  The conversation eventually started to lose steam, so Xavier picked up. He started to talk about himself. He had an interest in very fine embroidering, and occasionally would make some clothes for himself. He showed off his vest at that point, beaming at his creation. 

  “So... how come you've ended up working here?” You asked. Someone so skilled at sewing ending up in a brothel instead of working as a designer seemed odd.

“I enjoy helping people like this, and I'm a bit of a social butterfly. I tried being a host once, but that didn't end up working so well. I have... a slightly voracious appetite.” He smiled apologetically. You inhaled sharply at that, and you felt your cheeks warming up, and you felt a jolt in the pit of your stomach.

“I'll follow your lead, whenever you want to move onto something else, we can do that.” Xavier chuckled. 

  You nodded, blushing, and your shoulders tensed up. Xavier regarded you with a warm gaze, and slowly moved the tray to the side and shuffled closer to you, gingerly putting a hand on your shoulder.

“You're a bit tense again. Would you want me to give your shoulders a little massage?” He purred.

The vibrations of his voice went straight to your loins, and you stiffly nodded, turning your back to him. He gently tugged at the collar of your robe.

“Loosen your robe a bit, I can reach a little better that way.” He pulled the robes a little looser around your neck, and then gently pressed his fingers into your shoulders. As it turned out, his skills also extended to massaging, and you slowly found yourself sinking towards him. 

  You sighed, and soon he removed his hands. 

  “Feeling any better?” Xavier smiled at you.

“That was amazing,” you said, and then sighed.

He leaned slightly closer, leaning his head on his hand and sitting in a more casual pose. “I can keep going... or we can move onto something different?”

You debated on it for a moment, before the ache in the pit of your stomach started to become a little more incessant. 

  “I think... something a little different might be nice...” you said, slowly, and something lit up in Xavier's eyes. 

  “Then... may I touch you, pet?” His voice had changed, something almost predatory came alive in him. You nodded, almost afraid, but something about being in the presence of this creature excited you.

He gently placed his hand on your knee, and then slowly slid up your thigh, giving it a little squeeze halfway up. His hand started to skirt along the edge of the fabric of the robe. 

  “I won't touch anywhere that is covered... so you lead.” He purred, keeping his hand on your thigh, rubbing languid circles with his thumb. You let out a little huff, and then bashfully began to untie the belt on the robe. As you slowly let the belt fall away, your robe opened slightly, and Xavier let out an approving sound, slowly trailing his finger higher up your thigh.Soon, his hand dragged up your partially exposed stomach, between the groove of your breasts, then lightly touching the line of your collarbone. 

  “Mmh... you already smell so good and we've barely even started. You must really want this, that, or you're just naturally a treat.” Xavier licked his lips. “If you want me to make you feel better just say the word.”

The slow drag of his fingertips across your skin and the mood of the room made you a little bit braver all of a sudden.

“What do you have in mind?”

Xavier let out a chuckle, and you let his hand travel around to tip your chin upwards. “I can make you feel a way you've never felt before.” 

  “Is that right?” you tested him, before shakily breathing out, “show me what you've got then.”

He grinned, and something changed.

In the split second that you had challenged him, your body suddenly got hot, your vision blurred and your brain suddenly felt trapped in a bubble.

“Look at me, pet,” Xavier whispered, holding the back of your head with one of his hands. “It's alright. Nothing bad will happen.”

Your head was spinning, the sensation was odd and uncomfortable, but soon enough you focused on the way that his other hand was petting your thigh. You focused on the way his eyes were staring at you, the way his lips moved, and before you had a chance to get used to this strange sensation of being partially stuck in your own head, your entire being became a ball of nerves.

You started to breathe heavily as the fabric of the robe began to feel constricting around you, and you started struggling out of the fabric. Your body didn't want to listen very well, and you couldn't managed to make the fabric slip off you.

Xavier hummed, looking at you.

“What's the matter, pet? Having some trouble taking your clothes off?” He was clearly enjoying this, but you found that you didn't mind his teasing. “Do you need me to help you?”

You tried to reply, but all that came out was a moan, so you weakly nodded your head.

In a swift motion, you found yourself pulled onto Xavier's lap, your front exposed to him, your legs spread obscenely. The new sensation of the fabric of his pants made you let out another soft moan, and he quickly pulled the robe from your shoulders. The way his hands felt on you was mind blowing, and you didn't hold back the pleased rumbling that came from your throat.

“You look comfortable.” His eyes scanned you up and down, and his hands began to move up your sides. Everything was so sensitive, his fingers were like fire licking at you. In the haze of this dark, dimly lit room, there was only Xavier. You couldn't think of anything else but his hands, his face, his beautiful full lips. Your stares didn't go unnoticed, and he smirked. 

  “It seems that someone wants something more, hmm?” his voice was a purr, quiet, meant only for your ears. Weakly, you managed another nod, and he pulled your hips a bit closer and pulled on your shoulders to make you lean over. His lips connected with yours, and you let out a lewd mewl, breathing out hard. His kisses started out softly, massaging your lips, clearly ignoring your needy attempts at making out with him. Kissing him, and feeling his hands running up and down your thighs, hips, ass, it made you feel on cloud nine. So much of his touch made you feel turned on, you'd honestly never felt anything like this.

You were momentarily pulled from your frustrations when Xavier ran his tongue over your lips. It sent a jolt down your spine, and you involuntarily shivered. You vaguely heard a chuckle through the murky horniness of your mind, and you let out a deep moan.

You weren't allowed to recover from this assault on your senses when Xavier put one of his hands behind your head and he deepened the kiss, darting his tongue through your lips and exploring your mouth. You had to close your eyes, and grabbed tightly on his shirt to avoid floating away, your brain being bombarded with too many sensations.

You lost track of time, you lost track of yourself, you couldn't tell where you ended, and where Xavier started. Everything that you felt in that moment was so unfocused, but the pleasure was beyond what you believed was possible.

Xavier pulled away, and you were ripped from your intense pleasure. You managed to make a frustrated noise, and Xavier gently stroked your jaw.

  “Come on, surely kissing isn't the reason you came here?” He gave you a curious look and you had a moment of clarity through the haze. He noticed the momentary sobriety, before letting one of his fingers gently rub against one of your nipples.

The sensation shot through your body and another moan ripped through you. “Thought so.”

You were quickly bundled into strong arms, and were laid out onto a soft surface. Xavier joined you on the bed, and moved to trap you between himself and the bed.

“Time for the main event, pet.” he breathed out, his eyes having grown even more intense than before. 

  Something about this well dressed, hungry vampire looming over you made you feel so desired, you wanted him to drink from you, to have a taste of you, to fuck you senseless.

It wasn't long before he dipped down and took your nipple in his mouth, rolling his tongue over the sensitive bud. You writhed under him, and he had to grab your shoulders to keep you still. It was torturous, each flick of the tongue made you feel so good, but it wasn't enough.

That is, until he moved one of his hands to gently stroke at your folds.

You came instantly, and almost screamed, the feeling of that sudden action tipping you over the edge. 

  You felt Xavier chuckling against you, still licking at your nipple as he hovered his hand over your pussy.

“That was fast. Do it again,” he went right back to sucking on your breast, and you felt his hand come down on you again.

You didn't come instantly this time, but you weren't far off as the haziness of your mind and the overload of sensitivity had you hurtling towards your next orgasm. Xavier didn't let up though, and your body didn't put up any resistance as his fingers played around with your folds and clit, the little bundle of nerves almost on fire under the thorough touch of his fingers.

You were vaguely aware of him moving upwards, kissing a trail on your skin, before nuzzling your neck.

Xavier hummed in approval, and gave a quick lick over your neck. “You smell so good.... I want a taste.” His voice was quiet, skirting over your skin. “Can I?”

A noise came out from you, approving. You could barely concentrate on anything, and when Xavier's soft lips touched the base of your neck, his fingers still in you, your mind suddenly went blank.

For a while, your mind and consciousness was almost separated from your body, the only thing you were aware of was immense pleasure.

It lasted for so long. You couldn't tell how long you were in this state of pure bliss.

Slowly, you felt like you were coming back to yourself. 

  With a sigh, you blinked your eyes open, finding yourself cradled next to Xavier, wrapped in a blanket.

“Hey,” he said, sheepishly. “How are you feeling?”

You couldn't help the blush that crept on your face at the sight of his warm smile. Were his cheeks a bit red too? Something had changed in him. You couldn't pinpoint it, but he seemed more lively.

“I-I'm ok,” You mumbled into the blanket. “That was... amazing.”

“It's pretty cool, huh?” Xavier laughed, before smoothing back his hair and sitting up, his clothes still impeccable despite what had transpired. “Would you like me to get you some tea and cakes?”

You had requested for a caring service, but you hadn't quite expected to be tucked into bed and to get served tea and sweets after getting fucked thoroughly. You hadn't even fucked, really, but it certainly felt like you had been. Xavier left the room, giving you a warm smile as he exited the room. You were left in this cozy, luxurious room, alone. You tentatively sat up, feeling a bit wobbly, and you reached for the robe that had been set neatly on the bed. 

  You quickly robed yourself, and it wasn't long before Xavier returned with a new tray and sauntered over to the bed. “Here, we have tea, chamomile again, and some cakes. I wasn't sure which one you'd like, take your pick.” He set down the tray after sitting down, and gestured over to a selection of little slices. “You should definitely eat. I didn't drink much, but you need to make sure that you eat something to get your strength back.”

You reached for what looked like lemon drizzle cake, and took a bite from the slice. It was delicious.

You let out a throaty moan at the taste, and reached for the cup of tea. Xavier lifted up his own cup of tea, and took a sip.

“So, happy with the service?” He turned his head to look at you, smiling. 

  You smiled back at him, feeling your cheeks burn again, and nodded.

“That was... definitely unlike anything else I had ever experience.” You took a sip of your tea. “I'm more than happy.”

You shared that little moment together, silent save for the sound of tea being sipped and cake being eaten. You didn't mind, it was comfortable, and you had a chance to collect yourself. 

  “Would you like me to stay for a bit or are you ready to head home?” Xavier broke the silence, putting his cup down onto the tray with a clink. You sighed, and eventually put down your own cup.

“I think... that I'm ready to head home. Your company was lovely tonight and, well,” you avoided looking at him momentarily as an unprecedented wave of shyness overcame you. “I think... I would definitely like to visit again.”

Xavier smiled, and you felt your heart flutter for a moment as he leaned over and gave your hand a kiss.

“I do hope you come by again, you're delectable, pet.” He winked, before picking up the tray again and heading towards the door. “I'll be going now, I hope you have a safe trip back home and I hope to see you again, but remember, there's a mandatory 2 week wait between visits so you can recover.”

“Yes, I remember,” You nodded, and waved as he disappeared behind the door, shutting it with him.

You got up, cleaned yourself up, and dressed yourself. You left the room behind, and exited the hallway. 

  “Heyo, is that you done for tonight?” Amandine asked, smiling as you came out to the lobby.

“Yes... it was certainly an experience.” You said. You dug through your handbag for your wallet to pay up the fee, and soon you noticed how soft your body felt. “Relaxed? Xavier's a pro at what he does. If you want to make sure you get an appointment with him again, then please do phone up beforehand.” Amandine quickly shuffled some things behind the desk and brought up a small gift parcel, placing it on the counter.

“What's this?” you asked, quizically.

“All visitors get a little gift parcel. It's not much bit it's a few goodies and snacks to make sure you recover.” Amandine smiled, nudging the parcel over. “After all, there's a bit of a symbiotic relationship between us and our clients.”

You have an understanding nod and picked up the parcel, and bid your farewells.

On the way home, you felt calm, but there was a bit of a pep in your step, as you walked with confidence. That visit had definitely left a mark on you, and you made sure to write up a note on your calendar for exactly two weeks from then to set up a second visit to that handsome vampire.

[nctwd127]

Chicago.

Chicago – Mckenna Breinholt

Word Count: 1927

You moved out of Chicago about a year ago with your boyfriend. The both of you agreed that it would be better if you did, that it would help your relationship grow and each other as individuals.

It was just a new city. It was supposed to be just that, a new city. But it wasn’t, it didn’t feel like that. It felt like a different world.

One you couldn’t adapt too, one you didn’t want to adapt too. It was making you feel like someone you never were before this, before moving.

You started to become unsure of who you were, of who Johnny was, of who you were together.

“I miss you Johnny.” You whispered into his chest as you laid in bed with him and cuddled closer into his body, so much so that you wanted to become one with him.

He softly chuckled and ran his fingers through your hair, “I’m right here baby.” He said as a matter of fact.

By the tone of his voice, you could tell that he didn’t know what you meant. That he didn’t really know that there was something wrong, with you, with your relationship.

You thought about going into more detail about what was going on but you decided not to. Right now wasn’t the time and you didn’t have it in you to go further into the issue.

“I know, I don’t know why I said that. Have a good night baby.” You answered and closed your eyes, pretending to go to sleep right away. Eventually you did.  

You were never like this.

Johnny didn’t say anything back and just held you a little tighter, keeping you warm while you slept. He was going to follow you into slumber too but something about what you said was keeping him awake.

“Why would she miss me right now? That doesn’t make sense, it’s not like she forget that I was right here. She’s literally clinging to me like a kola.” He thought to himself.

He did his best to brush the thought away, convincing himself that there wasn’t more to it. That it was just a simple mistake on your part.

But deep down, he felt like he knew what you meant and that wasn’t something he was ready to admit to himself and definitely not to you.

The next day the both of you sat at the dinner table quietly, with nothing but the silverware hitting the plates making noise. It wasn’t an awkward silence, well at least now it wasn’t anymore. You’ve been eating like this for a long while now that it felt normal.

You held a five minute conversation at the start and it was always the same. It was always the same question, “How was your day?” And that was followed with the same answer, “It was good, nothing too crazy happened today. Which I am thankful for.”

And that was followed with a small head nod of acknowledgment.

Before, you’d stayed in the kitchen together and help each other out. One washed and the other dried and together you’d put them away. Someone would make coffee and the other would get the biscuits ready for a night in the living room till bed time.

But now, you take turns into doing all the work alone while the other waits in the living room. You tried to stay and help but the awkwardness was too much to bear, so you stopped trying.

You were never like this.

It was another night of you cleaning the kitchen alone. You always made two coffees and prepared enough cookies for the both of you. But tonight you did everything for only one person.

You left the kitchen with the things in hand and walked into the living room where Johnny was focused on whatever he had chosen to watch. You put his coffee and cookies down on the table and simply walked away.

As you walked back to your room, you hoped that he would turn around and ask you why you weren’t joining him. But you reached your door in silence with his laugh filling the cold hallway.

Johnny went to the kitchen to find you, wondering why it was taking you so long to come back and join him in the living room. Like you always did, every night without fail.

When he didn’t find you there, he turned off the television and went to your shared room. He felt a little relived when he found you there. But something started turning in his stomach when he saw you sitting on his side of the bed, with your hand over his pillow.

Your back was to the door, so you didn’t notice when your boyfriend walked in and watched you. So many emotions were coursing through you that you couldn’t hold them in anymore. One tear fell at a time, your heart was aching.

“We were never like this.” You whispered into the air.

You grabbed his pillow and held it to your body, “Everything changed and I don’t think you even noticed. We were supposed to be different but good different. Not fall apart, not be apart.” You cried into his pillow.

Johnny closed the door quietly to let you know that he was in the room. But he didn’t move away from the door, instead he stayed in place and watched you.

You jumped at the sound of the door and put his pillow back in place. You wiped your tears away and took a deep breathe in before you got up and faced him.

“Johnny.” You breathed out, hoping that he hadn’t been standing there long. But you saw on his face that he had and it hurt.

“Why are you crying?” He carefully asked, taking small steps closer to you.

You tired your best to smile and nodded your head no, “I’m not. Everything is okay, I’m okay. I wasn’t crying, I promise.” You lie through your smile.

The closer he got, the more the tears that gathered on your waterline. The air got trapped in your lungs when he was standing face to face with you. He reached for you and grabbed you by the arms.

“Everything is fine.” You insisted. But the tears were beginning to burn your eyes and you wanted to hold them in, you had too.

Johnny pulled you into him and held you tight against his body. He felt the way you shuddered in his embrace before you started to cry. He felt every breath and every shake your body took in your moment of need.

“Tell me what we both know.” You whispered.

“I’m sorry (Y/N).”

Your grip tightened around him at the sound of your name. He’s never called you by your name, it was always some kind of pet name but never your name. You hated the sound of your name coming from his mouth.  

“We haven’t been the same since we left Chicago. We changed.” He held onto you tighter than ever possible, “I changed.”

“I think that without realizing… I let go. I let us, I let you go. I let all this go.”

He thought maybe if he held you as tight as he could, he could keep you together as one in case you fell apart in his embrace.

But Johnny Suh was wrong.

You heard the crack of your heart in your ears and felt every bit of your soul escape through the ruins that remind at the bottom of your chest.

A month later.

You made the hardest decision of your life. You were going back home, to continue your life there. Alone.

Johnny decided that it was best for him to stay here, this is where he felt home was now. And even though it hurt, you always wanted what was best for him. Even if that meant that you were going to be miles away from each other and no longer together.

Tonight would be the last time you were together.

You became different lovers.

“Johnny.” You moaned into his skin as he pushed deeper inside you.

Your hands were tangled in his air, pulling him closer to your face. Your lips met and your teeth knocked together at the sheer force you pulled him in. His tongue fell into your mouth, savoring every bit of you he could. The grip on your thighs tightened with every deep stroke he gave you.

If this moment was going to be the last one you shared together, you wanted, you needed it to last for as long as it could.

“Right there, don’t stop.” You cried into mouth, letting your head fall back.

Your exposed neck became victim to his mouth. He bit and sucked onto your skin, wanting to hear you more. Wanting to mark you as his for as long as he could.

Johnny wrapped one hand around your throat and cut off your circulation just a tad. He spread your legs further apart and moved his hand down to your clit. He ran his thumb over your nerves as he pushed deeper and harder inside you.

One of your hands was placed over the one he had on your neck and the other was resting on his abdomen, nails digging into his skin. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you could not for the life of you, stop your body from shaking anymore.

Your walls wrapped around him, pulling him as deep as he could go, you felt the immensive amount of liquid you released around him.

“Johnny. Johnny. Johnny.” You whined his name like a mantra as you reached your peak.

He groaned, pulling all the way out and slamming back into you, “Cum for me just like that baby. Just like that.” He could feel his own release sneak up on him. “Fuck!”

His hands let go of your body and he could no longer keep himself up. He buried his face in your neck and bite down on your shoulder as he released inside you.

So beautiful, you thought as his groans filled your ears as he came down from his high. You ran your hands through his sweaty hair as he calmed down, trying to ease him back into the present moment.

Once the both of you were somewhat good again, Johnny got off you and went to get something to clean you up and then himself. You had no energy in your body, you had nothing felt.

Johnny got back into bed and pulled you into him, you automatically wrapped yourself around him like you always have. You held onto him for dear life and he held onto you the same.

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed, with only a letter resting on the pillow with your name on it. It was a letter from Johnny.

“We were never like this and I never wanted us to be. I couldn’t stay and watch you leave. If I did, I know that I would have done everything I could have to make sure you stayed with me. And that leaving wouldn’t have been an option for you.

But I can’t do that to you.

I love you.”

You left your key on the coffee table with a small note next to it.

“You should have stayed. I love you.”

You headed for the door with your luggage in hand. You looked around the apartment once more before you opened the door and walked out.

[cupcakemolotov]

Feel Like Home

Had a really strange dream last night and @goldcaught talked me into giving it some shape and writing this out.  Just a quick little thing, will expand on it if I have time/the muse for it. Not really a huge number of warnings for this one. Does reference past potential sex but no details. Just magical shenanigans and Bonnie and Caroline being besties.

Caroline bit her lip, studying Bonnie’ face. Her best friend rarely wore such a worried expression anymore, but in this case she couldn’t blame her. In less than forty-eight hours, she’d dropped whatever her witchy business had been, gotten a cat sitter, and hauled butt to New York City. 

And all because Caroline had called her with an SOS. 

Fingers curling into her palms, she glanced around the high rise apartment they were currently camped out in. The space was gorgeous, all warm wood and wide open windows with lush furniture that invited you to linger. The floor was saved from being chilly thanks to a collection of gorgeous rugs, the art work on the walls tasteful and heart-breakingly gorgeous. The bathroom had been copy/pasted directly from her dreams and the tub was gorgeous and everything she wanted in life. 

It was an apartment that she coveted, and one that was millions and millions of dollars outside of her price range. Just the view of New York City alone was a multi-million dollar addition. But her favorite fall jacket had been hanging in the closet, she’d found her awesome, weekend date to-go bag on the side of the bed. It had included a change of clothes and kick ass underwear. She felt safe here, welcome, and had absolutely no memory of how she’d gotten here or whose cologne lingered on the sheets.

“Okay,” Bonnie said finally, rubbing the wrinkle line between her eyebrows tiredly. “I’m really, really glad you called.”

Caroline eyed her doubtfully. “You don’t look happy.”

Bonnie waved her hand. “That’s not about you. Not entirely, at least.”

“Well, I’m not sure who else I’m going to call when I wake up in the middle of supernatural shenanigans, but I’m glad I called you too.” Taking a deep breath, Caroline looked at her beseechingly and tried not to panic. “How did I get here? I couldn’t find any texts explaining and we both know I'm a serial texter. How did I not send you fifty messages about my underwear choices for my date? My shoes? My dress? There isn’t a single hair check selfie on my phone, Bon. That’s impossible. I don’t just let someone talk me into visiting New York without at least a pro/con list two pages long.”

“Oh, I am aware,” Bonnie muttered. Running a hand down her face, she grimaced. “You can look at my phone for evidence later. But, Caroline. You’ve lived in New York for six months. You have a super cute closet for an apartment. I have pictures of that to prove it.”

“I…” her words died at the sincerity on Bonnie’s face. Blowing out a breath, because Bonnie Bennett would never lie about something like this, she cast her thoughts back and slowly nodded, relief heady. “Okay. Yeah. This spring. I remember packing my things in my rental and mom looking both relieved and tired.”

“Yeah, she’s wanted you to spread your wings for a few years. After the bout with cancer, you were being stubborn.” A lifted brow. “It was such a surprise. You. Being stubborn.”

Caroline gave her a disapproving look. “Do you have to say that like it's a bad thing?”

A small smile touched the edge of Bonnie’s mouth. “I guess it depends on what you are being stubborn about. Do you remember that big fancy PR party you were being forced to go to about six week ago?”

“No,” the word was said with great reluctance. “I feel like I should though.”

“Oh, you definitely should.” Bonnie drawled. “I didn’t attend and I know a great deal more about it than I would like. Clothes, shoes, departmental involvement and the dick from accounting who spends way too much time looking at your ass. Your boss, who insisted you go because she keeps thinking if she plays nice you’ll one day introduce her to your ex-werewolf boyfriend.”

Caroline did not want to talk about Tyler. “Your point, Bon?”

“You don’t remember Klaus.”

The name tugged something in her chest, a sense of awareness she couldn’t name, and Caroline frowned in concentration. “Who is Klaus?”

“The Black Dragon of New York.” At Caroline’s blank expression Bonnie sighed heavily. “Well, that confirms some of it at least.”

“Bonnie…”

“You moved to New York six months ago with a job offer for a Public Relations firm that specializes in supernatural reputations.” Her lips twisted in something like an amused grimace. “Your… history with witches and werewolves left you overqualified for the entry level position, as did your original internship in Chicago.”

Caroline pursed her lips. “By overqualified, that better be a comment on my personal awesomeness and not that they hired me because I dated a werewolf. That would have annoyed me. Why didn’t I remember that? I should have remembered that.”

“Because you don’t remember Klaus.”

Which made absolutely no sense to Caroline.

“Do I need to open wine? There was quite a collection that I am going to have no qualms drinking if that would absolutely help me understand the words you are saying.” Caroline threw her arms open wide. “I’m sure whoever lives here can afford it.”

“Spirits, if I thought it would help, I’d have brought tequila.” Bonnie looked heavenward and slouched backwards, something like gallows humor darkening her face. “Klaus Mikaelson is a dragon. A black dragon, specifically. He has been on top of the food chain for centuries, Caroline. He picked New York as his seat of power this century because he was bored in Europe. When he got here, he ate half the witch council, flattened three werewolf tribes, and casually made alliances with the necromages as if they were cute but annoying pets. He owns New York. He rules North America with a very, very short temper. Hell, I think he built this tower to his exact specifications because he now lives exactly one foot higher than every other building in New York. You would not believe how that man likes to lord over people.”

Caroline tried to recall the differences in dragon color and why that might be important and came up blank. “You’d think I’d know who he was with my job description,” she said faintly. “That seems like the kind of detail I would pick up on. And did you say this tower?”

Was there a floor above her? She hadn’t really spent a lot of time looking out the windows. She should have located the elevator and checked to see if it listed the number of floors. Figure out which one she was on. Something to do later then. 

“This tower. But more importantly, you’d probably have remembered that you tossed your drink in his face six weeks ago at said PR Party.” Bonnie’s expression grew even more pained. “I’m told the flowers he sent you after that were very nice.”

Caroline tried to suck in air. “I did what now?”

Bonnie nodded, motioning with her hand towards the bedroom. “Two days ago, you went on what I’m pretty sure was your third date. And you apparently stayed over.”

Eyes widening comically, Caroline glanced around the apartment again, trying to comprehend was she was seeing with new eyes. “Bonnie Bennett, I would remember fucking a dragon.”

Bonnie snorted, slapping a hand over her mouth as she visibly struggled not to laugh. Her shoulders shook, breath escaping in faint, choking noises. 

“This is not funny,” Caroline rasped, launching to her feet. Meeting her best friends watering eyes, she waved her hands dramatically around them. “You are telling me that I have been sleeping in Klaus Mikaelson’s bed for at least two days? And no one has been here to chuck me out? He hasn’t asked me to leave? Did he go on vacation? If he bailed on me like that and didn’t even so much as leave a note, I don’t care how hot he is, that was probably our last date.” Her eyes narrowed. “I even packed my cutest underwear. He did not deserve them.”

“You can keep the underwear thing to yourself,” Bonnie said hastily, voice still trembling with laughter. She cleared her throat, and tried again. “And to answer your question, no one knows where he is. That’s the problem. Forty-eight hours ago, the witch council announced they had successfully overthrown his hold on the city. Two hours later, you called me and said you couldn’t remember where you were or how you got here, but you had a really strong feeling that you shouldn’t leave.”

Caroline sat back down slowly. “What does that mean?”

Bonnie shook her head. “I don’t know. But what I do know isn’t… great.”

Caroline tried to smile. “That’s not really comforting.”

Bonnie ignored her. 

“Klaus brought you back here, to his… for lack of better word, lair. You probably had sex.” Bonnie’s nose wrinkled, but she kept going. “Dragons are possessive at best, Caroline. I don’t know what is going on between the two of you, but it took him over a month to sweet talk you into a date and yet you are keyed heavily enough into his wards that you were able to invite me, a witch, into his home without either of us getting fried.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. You also feel safe enough here that you didn’t bolt home in a walk-of-shame after waking up alone and suffering from amnesia. ” Her eyes were solemn, not a hint of tease on her face. “Whatever spell was used, it has wiped Klaus from your memory and life so thoroughly you don’t have so much as a text or picture linking back to him. So either you were caught up in the crossfire of the spell that took him out or the entirety of New York has also forgotten him. And none of those options are good ones.”

Caroline swallowed past her suddenly very dry mouth. “What does that mean?”

“I have no idea,” Bonnie said with a sigh. “But his magic is here, you're here. Which means he is alive and we are probably going to have to find him. And we will have to be careful, because if anyone from the council realizes that you’re probably the key to finding him, they’ll try to kill us. I’m already not super popular with some of the older factions, I cannot see this helping matters.”

“What, wait?” Caroline said up straight. “Why do we have to find him? Aren’t there other people who can do that? Didn’t you just say he rules this city? Surely he has like, minions or something that can do the heavy lifting?”

“If only.” Bonnie nodded towards her wrist. “But why us? Because you’re wearing his magic, Care. And while I definitely do not approve of dating a dragon, no matter what I think about it, there is no way his magic would cling to you if you hadn’t agreed to it. Probably. Which means when you aren’t dealing with a weird jedi mind wipe, you care about him. For some reason. And the Caroline I know doesn’t leave people behind.”

Caroline glanced down at her wrist and swallowed hard. Now that Bonnie had pointed it out, she could see the gold shimmer of a mark she couldn’t decipher beneath the familiar blue swallow on her right wrist. That mark felt… right. Familiar, as if she should have known it was there the entire time. Blowing out a breath, she glanced back at Bonnie’s unhappy face and grimaced. 

“I bet we can find tequila if we look hard enough.”

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x reader (A/n- And we’ve reached the end of this fic that apparently took on a mind of its on.)

Summary Prologue  1   2   3  4  5  6 7  8  9  10  11  12  13  14  15  16

Warnings- Angst, kind of

Chapter 17- Movie Endings

Two dresses were laid out on the bed, both gorgeous, and just her style. One was simple and black, with a clean cut "v" neck with a fitted skirt, the hem falling above her knees and a bow adding detail to the low back. All in all, it was nice; a style anyone might be comfortable in, It was elegant and clearly the safe choice. But the other, that one was a bit racy, the kind that Grace, her stylist, had been nudging her towards. The champagne colored fabric sported an angled hem, and her legs would definitely be on generous display. The neckline was dangerously low and the whipsy fringe adoring the lower half of the garment was either going to be a hit or a miss with the fashion gurus. It wasn't exactly the safest option, both mechanically or when considering her new found reputation in the fashion world, but it was stunning. 

Grace had left the final decision up to Y/n, and the team had prepared shoes and accessories for both. So, there she stood, in the bedroom of the hotel suite in London, just a handful of hours away from the world premiere of the movie that would be her introduction to silver screen. And Y/n didn't even want to go.

She should have been excited, part of her wanted to be, but it was proving to be a trying task because as hard as she tried not too, all Y/n could think of was how hard it would be to face Keanu again. She couldn't avoid him that time, pretend she didn't see him or cling to someone else and act like she was okay. That night, they'd have to walk the carpet together, take pictures with broad smiles and pretend they were on good terms. But they weren't, and it was eating her up on the inside.

With a heavy sigh, Y/n plopped into an accent chair near the window, unable to help it when her thoughts inevitably strayed to worrisome ones of Keanu. Was he okay with seeing her? Would he ignore like he had at the restaurant? Or would he try to save face and act as if they were friends. Thankfully, Jackson had dropped the whole, selling them as a couple tactic after her publicist had worked in over time to get him to change his mind, eventually convincing him that it would be all too cliche for the stars to get together. 

Part of Y/n was grateful that she wouldn't have to suck up her feelings and ignore the obvious. But some of her was disappointed too, because, even though they'd split, and she'd kicked Keanu out of her apartment after he tried to apologize, Y/n still missed him. She still loved him. Above anyone else, all she wanted was him. Maybe if they'd gone along with Jackson's plan, she could have been forced to put aside her pride and let him back in.

But alas, nothing of the such happened and Y/n wouldn't begin to know how to patch things up if she ever went back to Keanu. Hell, she didn't even know if patching was possible; they made a mess, left each other with ruins of what could have been a great romance. He'd broken her down to someone who was scared, now more than ever, to love again, while Y/n had pushed Keanu into uncharted territory which he wasn't ready for. 

And still, she loved him. 

She would always love him. Even with the bitterness that lingered in her throat when she thought of everything they'd been through. Even when she reminisced on all the terrible things he'd done. Even when all she could think of was how much she wanted to hate him, all Y/n could do was love Keanu. Love him till it hurt, love him till her heart became caught in a cycle of shattering and repairing itself, love him until that was all that made sense about what they used to be. 

Maybe she'd always loved him, for the very beginning, before it all started with one kiss in her hotel room in Chicago. Maybe that was why she'd fought so hard. 

Tears pricked at her eyes, and while Y/n knew that she'd have to go out into the main room in a bit, to let the team help her get ready, she let herself sink into emotion for a while. The tears falling freely, though silently, and her chest tight, with a burning ache in the center. 

A knock on the bedroom door had Y/n jumping up from the comfort of her seat, grabbing a tissue on her way to the door. "Yeah?" It was her assistant, a red haired girl who was just about her age. 

"Um," she shuffled her feet, avoiding Y/n's gaze, "Walter," her manager, "Needs to see you. He's waiting, out on the balcony, down the end of the hall." And just like that, without even waiting for Y/n to respond, she was scuttling away nervously, not even sparing a backwards glance. It was certainly suspicious behavior for her too, usually her assistant was one of those energetic spirits, employing the kind of optimism that Y/n wish she still had. That evening though, she seemed nervous, like something was wrong.

As the troubled feeling settled in the pit of her stomach, Y/n tightened the knot on her black, floral dressing robe, shoved her feet into the nearest pair of fluffy flip flops, she marched out of the room with purpose, not caring if she was sparsely dressed beneath the silk cocoon. Grabbing nothing more than her phone, she slipped out of the suite, evading questions of Grace and the rest of her team, all more than ready to finish prepping her for the premiere. 

As she hurried down the hall, headed towards the open veranda doors, nearly stumbling on a kink in the carpet on her way. "Walter-" Gasping, Y/n cut herself off when she saw who was turning to face her, the only thing missing from his outfit being his suit coat, his shirt well fitted and tight around his biceps. "You," she stuttered accusingly, clumsily staggering backwards, “You’re the one that wanted to meet here, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t want to ask you assistant to lie,” Keanu released his grasp on the cool metal railing, fully tuning to face Y/n, though not yet making any move to approach her, “But I knew you wouldn’t come if I’d asked,” he moistened his lips, “And honestly? I don’t blame you.”

Taking a minute to absorb his presence, Y/n breathed slowly, letting her eyes settle on him. He looked so different, and just the same, all at once. He’d trimmed his beard and hair since the last time she’d spotted him at the restaurant, and Y/n suspected that his impeccable grooming had more to do with the red carpet they were set to walk than his own volition and he looked just as dashing as he usually did, though, there was a sadness in his expression and a slight hollowness around his eyes, as if he hadn’t been sleeping well. “What do you want?” It took a couple minutes to rediscover her courage, but from the minute she did, Y/n had decided that unlike the last time, she’d listen to what he had to say. She was just so tired of fighting.

Keanu’s eyes followed Y/n as she finally passed through the threshold, leaving some space between them, leaning her hip against the guard rail and folding her arms. “I want…….” to fix this, make you love me again, erase every terrible thing I’ve ever done to you. Words were hard to come by, and nervously, Keanu managed, “You, Y/n. I want you.” 

Tears pricked at her eyes, and Y/n sniffled quietly, her throat burning as she spoke, “Keanu…..I,” scoffing, she tucked some hair behind her ear, swallowing thickly, “I’m not going back to living like that with you, and-”

“No,” he cut her off, not for a second wanting her to think that he wasn’t putting his all into shaping up for her, “I’m not asking you to. I want to be the man you deserve, and you deserve someone who’s brave and can tell you exactly how he feels. And I know right now that man seems like Luke, and I hate that I’m here asking you to leave the man that makes you happy for one that broke your heart way too many times,” reaching out, Keanu took one of her hands in both of his, his breath hitching hopefully when she didn’t pull away, “But I am, because I want to change, for you.”

“I don’t want you to change,” Y/n’s broke pitifully, and a lone tear trickled down her cheek, “I never wanted you to change, I just wanted you to let me in, so I could love you for who you already are, so we could love each other,” placing her hand on top of his, Y/n sobbed quietly, “Keanu I’m so tired of trying to be mad at you. Its so hard.” Her shoulders slumped and her hung her head, and not long after, she felt the top of Keanu’s head pressing against hers, their hands jumbled between them.

“I’m tired of living without you,” he sighed, as they both sunk into the familiarity of being close, “I’m so sorry that I hurt you.”

“I’m sorry that I pushed you,” she sniffed, breathing his scent; musky cologne, cigarettes and leather. Y/n didn’t think she’d ever missed a smell that much. “I should have waited till you were ready, not forced your hand.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Keanu stepped closer and Y/n did too, “You gave me so many chances, I never deserved them, or you, not when I was acting like that.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Y/n weaned her hands from Keanu’s cupping his face, letting her thumb graze the apple of his cheek, catching his tear before it fell, standing on her tiptoes, “You deserve every good thing that’s come to you, you’re a good man Keanu. Behind every wall you put up, beneath every nasty thing you’ve said, I know that you’re good in here,” Y/n placed her hand over his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat against her palm.

It barely took a minute of her touch for him to remember what it was liked to be loved by her, how whole he felt, like if all else faded away, what they had would be all that mattered. Why hadn’t he let himself feel it sooner? Resting his hand over hers on his chest, Keanu bent his head so his lips would graze Y/n’s. “Do you still love me?” Their noses were touching and he ended his inquisition with another brief kiss, using all his restraint to not crash his lips to hers. To say he missed her would be an understatement. He craved Y/n, every part of her; the parts that were so undeniably perfect and the parts that she hid deep within, her touch, her taste, her smell, her voice. Her everything.

“I will always love you,” she whispered, the palm on his face sliding to the back of his head, tangling in Keanu’s neat hair, neither of them caring if she messed it up, “I never stopped. But I told you, I’m not going back to the way things were before.”

“And I told you, I’m not asking you to,” he kissed her, deeper that time, arms winding around her waist, holding her flush against his chest, “I want it all with you. If you’ll have me,” he swallowed nervously, rearing back a bit to search her eyes.

Caressing the back of his neck, Y/n knew she couldn’t deny him, it was inevitable. Everything that had happened form the moment they’d met had led up to them, standing on the balcony as London’s late afternoon turned to dusk; the sun setting, the sky darkening and their affections reigniting, “I wouldn’t rather have anyone else,” lost in his trance, Y/n knew that every word said between them that day was nothing less than the truth. Everything felt different; renewed and realer, he was hers and she was his, truly and completely and for as long as they’d make it last. And they had every intention of making it last for the rest of their forever.

“What about Luke?” Just remembering that Y/n had gotten back with him, Keanu didn’t want to cause any more destruction than he already had.

“We broke up, for good this time,” Y/n shrugged, “I couldn’t do it anymore, force myself to feel something for him when all I wanted was to be with you,” she clung to Keanu, their embrace consuming and healing at the same time, “Tell me this is gonna last.”

“It’s gonna last,” he confirmed, “For as long as I’m alive, it’s gonna last. And even after that, it’ll last, I promise. In fact,” he paused, nervous as hell for some reason, wondering if he was expecting too much too soon after their reconciliation, “I was thinking, if you want, we could walk together tonight. As a couple.”

“Are you sure?” Y/n knitted her brows, knowing that going public was a big step for Keanu. It meant that they were solid, exclusive, committed. A couple with a future, who wanted the world to know that they were only for each other. “I don’t want you to feel pressured just because you want us to work out. We can take it slow.”

Shaking his head, Keanu rubbed her back affectionately, and Y/n burrowed against his chest, “I’m not doing it because of pressure, I’m doing it because I want to, for us. I want the world to know that its sweetest, most beautiful woman chose me. So, what do you say, be my exclusive girlfriend Y/n?”

Beaming, Y/n tilted her head to look up at Keanu, his smile hopeful, “I’d love to Keanu. I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he smiled wistfully and and when he leaned down to kiss her, one last time, just before he’d walk her back to her room to finish getting ready, Keanu reminisced on Ester’s advice back at the hotel, maybe it wasn’t a movie, but they could still have their happy ending. 

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited​  @paanchu786​  @thesadvampire​  @fanficsrusz​  @fickensteinn​  @ladyreapermc​  @babygirltaina​  @septimaseverina​  @snatchedbylele​  @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx​  @magnificentclodpiebanana @allie1804-fan @keandrews  @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx​ @danceoftwowolves

[jemej3m]

a comprehensive set of rules (part 1)

light and breezy!! (this is not a b99 au)

this is...long.

plot?????? what?????????

*

January:

“So you’re telling me,” Aaron repeated. “You’re pretty sure this guy is into some organised crime shit?”

Andrew made a noise, rolling over on his bed to press the phone between his ear and the pillow. Usually their calls were short and succinct, as was tradition ever since they departed from college - Andrew heading to Baltimore for policing academy and Aaron to Chicago for med-school - with Aaron doing most of the talking and Andrew occasionally humming in response.

Tonight Andrew was riddled with questions. Usually his moral compass was simple and easy to adhere to, but this was - to put it mildly - fucked. He didn’t care about authority, or loyalty to his police oath, but he couldn’t just screw a guy whilst suspecting him of murder. Or whatever Neil had gotten himself into.

You can’t talk, his own brain reminded him, so kindly, so gently. He made a scathing noise and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“A woman tried to kill him and talked shit about his family. You should’ve seen how bone-white he went at his father’s mention.”

“So - you’re just going to excuse him? On the basis of what, an inclination to murder is genetic?”

Sometimes it was genetic. Andrew almost laughed. Aaron heard the irony in his own words, too and grumbled out a low ‘Shut up.’

“He said he couldn’t date a cop, anyway.” Not that Andrew was interested in dating.

It did appear as though he and Neil was very incompatible: Neil didn’t do sex and relationships, was criminally inclined and had yet to text him since their disaster of a second date.

Andrew was only emotionally ready enough for casual sex, one-night-stands and loveless hookups, and didn’t exactly know whether or not he could ignore Neil’s background, seeing as every day he went in to work and interrogated perps with gang tattoos and blood still drying on their hands.

And yet.

Andrew still wanted to see Neil. See he was alright. Talk to him. Spend time with him. Andrew still wanted to try and set something up, something that’d benefit both of them, maybe a way that Neil could escape from his current life, a way for Andrew to get invaluable knowledge.

Andrew still wanted to try and have something with Neil. Not romantic. Not a relationship, or sex, or even friendship.

Just - something.

“That’s that, then.” Aaron said, unhelpful. “Nicky was all screechy about it on the phone. Said that the guy was cute. I bet he has no clue.”

“No,” Andrew agreed, making a mental note to check out ‘Allison’ and ensure his cousin was safe. “No clue at all.” He sighed, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling of his bedroom. “It doesn’t matter. I doubt we’ll ever see each other again.”

*

February:

“Shit,” Andrew muttered as coffee dribbled down his vest. The taser tucked into its pocket made an odd sound, as though it were drowning or something. He fished it out and sighed: Kevin, another fresh-faced detective who seemed to think he had the right to criticise Andrew’s every move, wouldn’t let this go. Andrew seemed to always be needing new equipment, so much so that Kevin had decided to photocopy the request forms and pin them snootily to Andrew’s desk.

Andrew hated Kevin. Renee had forced him to be civil, though, and he trusted his partner enough to listen to her advice.

“Didn’t see you there,” came a familiar voice. Andrew’s head snapped up: canvasing the truly miraculous sight that stood before him. “So sorry.”

Neil’d had his haircut since Andrew had last seen him, but he bore purple shadows under his eyes, his skin pale and sickly. A hood was drawn up, the sweater too large on Neil’s wiry frame. His jeans were loose too. He was far from the well-dressed bad idea Andrew had gone on two dates with, just over two months prior.

“Come into this cafe, officer,” Neil said, voice flat. “There’s a bathroom.”  With that, he spun on his heel and marched back into the coffee-shop that he had no doubt been waiting outside of for Andrew to pass by.

Andrew followed silently, ignoring the lukewarm coffee that was dripping down his chest. There was a tiny bathroom with two cubicles, of which Neil somehow had the key for. He spun around and leant against the door, eyes dark.

“Neil,” Andrew said. “What the fuck?”

“I can’t be seen with you, or talking to you,” he managed, voice slightly raw. “Things are - not great, right now. I’m sorry I vanished.”

“You have to give me context,” Andrew insisted, stepping closer. “What the hell is going on?”

Neil shut his eyes. “If I promise you that I’ll explain everything, afterwards, will you help me?”

“I take my promises seriously,” Andrew warned.

Neil nodded weakly, wringing his fingers. “I know.”

Andrew sighed, taking some paper towel from next to the sink and patting himself dry. “What’s happening?”

Neil swallowed. “My father’s going to court, based on charges of tax evasion and money laundering.”

Andrew gestured for him to continue.

Neil hung his head. “I’m going to usurp him, him and his closest allies. I need a cop I can filter information through to, so that they can be locked up permanently. All five of them.”

“Someone once told me that they’d never be safe unless the threat was dead,” Andrew said, voice low. “You can’t fool me into thinking you just want them in jail.”

Neil had the audacity to look surprised, like maybe he thought Andrew wouldn’t remember. He’d learn to assume Andrew knew everything soon enough. “He has enough enemies that it’ll be taken care of, for me. Honest enough for you, officer?”

Andrew straightened out. “And when he and his crooks are gone? What then?”

Neil’s smile was almost sad. "Then I will take his place.”

“You could dismantle it entirely,” Andrew argued. “You don’t have to follow his footsteps.”

Neil just shook his head. “There are higher powers at work, Andrew. It’s my legacy: I have no choice." He in a shuddering breath. “If I could abandon it all, I would. I don’t want this life. I don’t want his name, or his smile, or his bloodthirst. I don’t.”

“Neil,” Andrew warned.

The man squeezed his eyes shut. “You know I watched him kill my mom? She didn’t want this life either. He was going to kill me too. Maybe he should have.”

“Neil.”

Andrew had the man’s chin pinched between his thumb and forefinger. He opened his eyes.

“I’ll help you,” Andrew said, against better judgement. “Tell me your name and I’ll help you.”

Neil’s swallow was constricted, weighted. He took out a tiny slip of paper and tucked it into Andrew’s pocket. “I'm still Neil.” His inhale was desperate. “I am still Neil.”

Andrew nodded slightly, stepping back and watching as the man unlocked the door and slipped out.

Slowly - carefully - Andrew unfolded the little piece of paper.

It was a business card, the logo embossed into the paper.

Nathan Wesninski and Co. it read, accented with gold.

*

March:

“How the fuck...” Dan said, flicking through the file. She, Wymack and Renee all sat opposite Andrew, peering over his work with trepidation.

Under a strictly Need-To-Know policy, Kevin was excluded for his previous ties to Riko Moriyama, who was the son of a yakuza boss (though that was not widely known). Matt was excluded on the basis of too many mouths to control, though Dan would probably fill him in. Seth was excluded because he sucked and Andrew hated him. That left his partner, his captain and his sergeant, all of whom were mildly shocked that Andrew had picked up such a large and intricate case independently.

“How did you find all this?” Dan demanded, recoiling from the contents of his file. Beside the many photographs laid a dried chunk of flesh in a sealed bag, of which DNA tests would confirm to be Mary Wesninski’s, who vanished over 14 years ago.  Neil said he’d cut it from the branching aorta of his mother’s heart, of which his father kept in a small container, alongside her tongue and eyes, seeing as his father would miss a whole organ, but not a chunk of the underside. He didn’t get his name the Butcher for nothing.

“Unless we have a weapon, or something with prints that connects Wesninski to that-” Wymack pointed to the piece of Mary’s heart. “It’s still circumstantial without your CI coming forward as a witness.”

“They will die,” Andrew said calmly. “I’ll keep working for a connection, but nothing about my CI gets published. Nothing.”

“Okay,” Renee agreed, smiling warmly as she rounded the table. She waited for his nod to drop a hand on his shoulder, rubbing small circles of warmth. “We’ll figure something out, Andrew.”

“I can’t believe we have a chance against Wesninski,” Wymack muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Not yet, we don’t.” Dan reminded him.

Not yet, Andrew agreed.

*

April:

Neil walked a slow circle around Andrew’s apartment, eyeing the windows and doors, the fire escape, the kettle, probably even the fucking toilet paper. Andrew watched as he toed off his shoes, pulled his sweater sleeves over his hands and finally joined Andrew in the living room.

“Got bored of figuring out the best point of exit?”

Neil scowled, settling on the couch beside him. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Well, yours wasn’t exactly an option, was it?” 

Neil just drew his knees up to his chin, curling into a small ball on the couch. “The trial’s been set for late September.”

“I know,” Andrew agreed. 

“You haven’t brought any evidence to the prosecutor yet.”

“I haven’t.”

“Was what I gave not good enough?”

“No,” Andrew grimaced. “A chunk of Mary’s heart tells us she’s dead. Without prints, or a weapon, or DNA evidence surrounding her body, there’s no way to connect Nathan to her death.”

Neil winced, teeth biting into his lip. The minute rocking back and forth was beginning to get on Andrew’s nerves. “I can’t...I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Andrew insisted. “We solve crimes for a living. There’s always an answer.”

Neil scoffed, body still shaking. “You’re probably aware of 20% of what goes on in this city.”

“So tell me the other 80.”

Neil stared. 

Andrew gestured vaguely. “The different gangs, the territory lines, shoot outs and brandings and who’s having an affair with who. I don’t care. Just talk.”

“What good is gossip?” Neil wondered aloud. 

“You’d be surprised,” Andrew said lightly, like this wasn’t completely for Neil’s benefit. He needed to get Neil out of his head. It looked like the man hadn’t sleep in weeks, his nails bitten down to the quick and body stiff with bandages. The fact that Andrew couldn’t help him much more than this - at least not now - was putting him through the wringer.  

“Fine,” Andrew huffed when Neil wasn’t forthcoming, getting off the couch. From under the TV he grasped a random DVD and shoved it into the player that Nicky had bought for him a few years ago. 

“What’s this?” Neil blinked, owlishly. 

Andrew just dropped back down onto the couch. “Do you trust me?”

Neil looked at him, eyes narrowed. 

Andrew reached out to push the long fringe away from Neil’s eyes. “Neil, do you trust me?”

“I...” he looked down to his hands. They slowly curled into fists. “I want to.”

Andrew tilted his chin up with the tip of his finger. For a moment there was nothing else, just blue and gold and fate and future. “Then believe me when I say I will find a way.”

Slowly, Neil nodded. 

*

May: 

“Dimaccio, Plank, and the Romero siblings,” Andrew leant on the table with his fists, the fies splayed out around them. “We lock them up, one by one. Nathan loses his circle, loses his security. He’ll put out the wrong foot without anyone else to fall back on.”

“Who should we start with, then?” Wymack inquired, letting Andrew steer this investigation down to the very last report signature. 

Andrew arched an eyebrow, momentarily recalling the jagged scars on the inside of Neil’s elbows. 

“She’d wanted to cut my tendons, once,” he said, before yanking down the sleeves again. 

“Ladies first,” he told Wymack, picking up the photo of Lola Malcom and pinning it right into the centre of their case-board.

*

June: 

Dimaccio snarled as he was lead away in shackles, hair shaved close to his skull. He was probably double Andrew’s height and width and had three police escorts shoving him into the back of a wagon. Across the back of his hand had been the characteristic X, the one Neil bore, the one Lola had worn too. 

Two down, three to go, Andrew thought, something like pride grinning wolfishly within his chest. These were only the bail hearings: proper convictions wouldn’t be till the new year. It didn’t matter: so long as they were locked up, Andrew could move forward. Wymack stood beside him, thumbs hooked into his belt loops. 

“Nice work, kiddo,” the chief acknowledged, shaking out a cigarette and gesturing to the exit. Andrew followed. 

Leaning against the courthouse’s sandstone exterior, Andrew stared up into the cloudless sky with an accusatory squint, till Wymack nudged him.

“Your phone’s ringing,” he muttered, cigarette drooping with ever syllable. 

Andrew fished out the burner that he always kept tucked into his back pocket. He flicked it open immediately: there was only one person who had this number. 

“Andrew,” Neil panted. “Thank god. Okay. Hi.”

“N -” Andrew glanced at Wymack before turning away. “What’s going on?”

“The chances of me being able to contact you from now on will be slim to none: with two of them gone, I have to step in.”

“Christ,” Andrew muttered, stubbing out his cigarette. “Where are you now?”

“Bathroom,” Neil muttered. “Some stupid event thing for his business front. I’m not who matters right now. Do you have family that’s traceable to you? A next of kin?”

“You’ve met Nicky and Erik,” Andrew said, suddenly cold all over. “My twin and his wife live in Chicago.”

“They should be alright,” Neil murmured. “But Nicky and Erik have to go. Can they win a flight overseas? I’ll wire you through money if you need it -” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll sort it out.”

“You need to be careful,” Neil insisted. “He’s going to come after you. That’s twice your name’s been on the front of the arrest records. I’ve sorted something out, okay?”

“Forgive me if that sounds less that appealing.”

Neil laughed weakly. “It’s not a pretty solution, but it’ll work. You have to keep working, and if I can’t keep interacting with you without blowing this whole thing over, then our only choice is...” 

“Allison,” Andrew muttered. “Jesus Christ.”

Neil hummed in agreement. “She’ll pick you up from yours in an hour. Be ready.”

“How does she know where I live?”

“Like she doesn’t track my every move, Minyard. She’s my accomplice. Gotta go, now. He’ll get suspicious.” 

Something twisted in Andrew’s throat. “Stay safe.”

Neil paused, then mumbled “You too,” and disconnected the call. 

Wymack was watching him with an arched brow. 

Andrew shrugged. “My CI’s quick.”

“Unpredictable asshole,” his boss muttered, shooing him off with a derisive flick of his fingers. Andrew saluted him as he departed, before twisting on his heel and jogging back to his car. 

*

“Guest room, guest bathroom, living room, kitchen, blah, blah.” Allison waved her hand around emphatically, her manicured nails glittering with rhinestones and pearls. They were probably real, if her apartment was anything to go by. 

Everything was white, grey or pink, aside from the dark-oak parquetry on her floors. The marble countertops were polished to sparkle, every device in her kitchen practically unused. It was Nicky’s dream penthouse. 

“It pays to murder, doesn’t it?” Andrew wondered when he’d inherited Neil’s loose tongue. 

The look Allison gave him was withering. “I don’t murder. I clean up.”

“Because complacency is so much better than participation.”

She rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe Nicky didn’t tell me you were a fucking cop. Would’ve never set you up on a date if I knew.”

“I’m going to have his father in max security by the end of the year,” Andrew reminded her. “Don’t make me abandon the case.”

She grinned. “You wouldn’t. He’s got you wrapped around his finger.” At Andrew’s glare, she waved him off. “Don’t worry: he’s just like that. I never said that I ain’t wrapped around his finger too. It’s impossible to not want to shield him away, wrap him in copious amounts of blankets, kiss his forehead and tell him it’ll be okay. I tried it once,” she grimaced. “It didn’t work.”

Andrew didn’t picture Neil, a mobster’s son, wrapped in blankets on Andrew’s couch, smiling (genuinely) as Andrew pressed a kiss to the corner of his eye. He did not picture that. He did not. 

“For what it’s worth,” Allison said, in a voice softer than Andrew thought she was capable of as she looked out the enormous windows that overlooked Baltimore’s busiest district. “I’m glad he trusts you. And I’m glad you’re helping us.”

“Don’t get sappy on me, Reynolds,” he pointed at her in warning. “I’ll lock you up too, if you give me a reason to.”

Her laugh was pearlescent, her grin cat-like. “Neil would scalp you before you could even say my full name. Don’t forget, Minyard,” she winked. “I’ve got him wrapped around my finger, too.”

*

this will continue in p.2 with july-december!! after that we’ll go back to our regularly scheduled softness and humour. i’ve already got another one-shot planned around kevin and neil.... :D

[hanscom]

reddie enemies to lovers

(I keep trying to convince myself to finish this, but it hasn’t happened yet and it’s been over a year since I started it. So here, have some hockey enemies to friends nonsense.

Fair warning: this is the same game as we all know and love, but the ins and outs of professional hockey detailed here are made up. I don’t know the specifics about what goes on off the ice, okay? Correct me if you must, but I highly encourage you to just embrace the fact that I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about.

Also, I love you all, still and forever. Thanks for following me even after all this time.)

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak Rating: T Word count: 2,948

It’s cold in the arena.

It’s worse, down on the ice. The air is sharp and stinging on his face, in his lungs. His skates are steady under his feet. The lights are blazing overhead. He can’t smell much except the sweaty inside of his helmet, but he imagines it smells like popcorn and hoppy beer. It smells like game day. It smells like home.

Richie doesn’t think there could be anything better than this.

He’s skating backwards around the rink, gliding fast across the freshly buffed ice, content in the knowledge that no one is going to run into him. His team has gotten pretty good at working around him. They’re starting to become a pretty effortless unit, for the most part. It’s something Richie is pretty fucking proud of.

He whooshes past Ben and around one of the rookies, shouting joyful nonsense that echoes off the ice. They yell back at him, but he can’t make out the words over the sound of his skates and the blood rushing in his ears.

And then Stan skates out from the tunnel and into his way. Richie twists fast to the side, digging down, slowing to a quick stop. Ice sprays up under his blades. Stan, unimpressed as always, doesn’t move. “Are you done showing off?” he asks, his mouthguard hanging from his helmet. The only time he ever takes it out on the ice is to give Richie a hard time.

“What’s that?” Richie says. “I can’t hear you from down there.”

Stan is the smallest guy on the team. He’s almost a solid foot shorter than Richie, and he’s constantly sore as fuck about it. Richie doesn’t get it. If Stan were any bigger, any less quick on his feet, he wouldn’t be half the player he is. Stan’s a winger. His entire hockey career revolves around being fast. And, anyway, Richie’s kind of big for a centerman, but you don’t hear him bitching about it.

They’re close to the goal. Mike is standing there in the crease, suited up, his hulking equipment making him look massive. “Are we really doing this again?” he calls, but he’s laughing about it.

Richie digs his skates in, gliding an easy circle around the goal. “We sure are,” he says, grinning. “You know Stan plays a better game when he’s pissed off.”

“I could play a better game than you in a coma,” Stan shouts. His face is red, some combination of cold air and actual anger. Stan’s normally a pretty level-headed guy, but Richie gets under his skin, shakes him up, makes him mad. His game has gotten a thousand times more aggressive since they met. Bill sometimes jokes about putting him on defense, but he never will. Stan as Richie’s left wing is pretty much the only reason the Portland Pioneers ever score.

It’s not that their right wing is bad, exactly. He’s just… not good. Richie can say that. He’s not the captain, like Bill. He’s not even an alternate, like Stan and Ben. He doesn’t have to be diplomatic. He doesn’t have to play nice. Hockey’s not a nice sport. Hockey’s about being fast and smart and violent. Right winger Patrick Hockstetter might be mean as hell, but he’s also slow as fuck and dumb as a box of rocks. Richie can work with a lot of things, but he can’t fix stupid.

But Richie’s trying not to think about it. He doesn’t need to go into the game expecting Patrick to fuck it up for them (again). It’s bad luck. And Albany’s a good team. Richie has to focus if he’s going to pull this one out.

—

The Pioneers lose in overtime, which is devastating. Losing always sucks, but it’s even worse, watching Albany celebrate on their ice.

Afterward, the locker room is quiet for a long time, aside from the five minutes Coach spends yelling at them for their admittedly awful performance. When he retreats back to his office, the team slowly strips out of their equipment, made sluggish by defeat. They’re all tired. Richie is already starting to ache, his body finally registering all the time he spent up against the boards. Bill and Ben are in even worse shape. Both of them already have bruises blooming across their ribs, across their backs. Albany played rough. The Pioneers haven’t had to fight that dirty in a long time. It makes the loss feel even worse, somehow.

Richie has just finished dragging on his street clothes when Bill finally speaks up. He has changed into the full three-piece suit he wears to impress the media circus waiting outside for him, and his hair is still damp from the shower. He looks sort of ridiculous, standing there in full monkey costume in front of the team, who are all in various states of undress. But he’s still the captain, so when Bill tells them to listen up, they do.

“You guys played really hard tonight,” he says. He’s trying to sound light-hearted, uplifting, but Richie has known him for a long time now. He’s just as crushed by the loss as everyone else — probably more so. There’s a small waver in his voice that says it all. “I know this isn’t the outcome we wanted, but that doesn’t change how well you all played.”

Richie looks down. It’s sort of worse, knowing they did well but lost anyway. They gave it their all, but it wasn’t good enough. It fucking sucks. Richie sort of wants to punch something. He sort of wants to sleep for a few days straight.

He really, really, really wants a right winger who can shoot a decent shot.

It’s not a very charitable thought. Patrick has played worse games than this one. But Richie’s too tired to play nice, and he can’t stop replaying all the shots they missed, all the times he was open and so was the goal but the puck was nowhere to be found and neither was Patrick.

Richie thinks, without meaning to, about Albany’s right winger. Thinks about the way he had sped across the ice, faster than Richie, faster even than Stan. He’d played a good game. A damn good game. Richie sort of really hates him for it, which isn’t fair. It’s not that guy’s fault Richie doesn’t have a solid line. But he is most of the reason Albany scored and scored and scored again, so Richie reserves the right to hate him, just a little.

Stan and Mike ask him out for a drink, but he declines. He wouldn’t be good company, and besides, he’s beat. So he bids them goodbye and leaves out the back, ball cap pulled low over his eyes to hopefully deter anyone from recognizing him. It works. He gets home without incident, makes himself a late dinner, and flips on the TV to watch a few highlights, because he’s an obsessive masochist. Pittsburgh beats Chicago, then Nashville loses to Dallas, and then he’s watching himself skate furiously down the length of the Pioneers’ rink. He groans, but doesn’t fumble for the remote. Helplessly, hopelessly, he watches Patrick lag behind. He watches Albany’s defense wrestle the puck away without much of a fight. He watches that tiny fucking demon of a right winger swoop in, taking control of the puck with an ease Richie can’t help but admire. God, the guy’s good.

The announcers call him Eddie Kaspbrak. The name sounds familiar, in the way that all good players sound familiar. Richie can only watch so many highlights in a night without picking up on a few things, and this is clearly not the first beautiful pass Kaspbrak has ever made. Richie makes a face and finally shuts the television off. He doesn’t need to relive Kaspbrak’s seamless pass to center, that perfect shot down the crease, the way Mike’s knee guards slapped to the ice a split-second too late. It was hard enough to watch in real time.

One day, he’s going to have a right wing like Kaspbrak, who can keep up and knows how to bank a shot. But today isn’t that day, so he gives up and goes to bed, upset and pissed off and stoking his quiet, irrational grudge against Eddie Kaspbrak.

—

Trade negotiations roll around. Richie tries not to worry about it, but he does. Everyone does.

In the end, it’s Patrick. Which isn’t surprising, exactly, but feels so much like everything Richie has ever wanted that it scares him. He finds himself waiting for the other shoe to drop.

In late February, two weeks before the trade deadline, it does. Bill makes the announcement after a rough, sweaty afternoon practice. Richie is tired as fuck, still breathing heavy, but all the air jams up in his throat when Bill breaks the news.

The Portland Pioneers have acquired Eddie Kaspbrak.

—

Kaspbrak, in person and without all his gear, is even smaller than he looks on the ice.

He’s younger-looking than Richie expects. They’re the same age, but Richie has taken a few good hits over the years that have knocked his face a little out of whack. He has a crooked nose, twisted teeth. The entire left side of his jaw had to be painstakingly rebuilt three years ago when he took a puck to the face, which left his smile sort of lopsided.

Eddie doesn’t look like he’s ever taken a hit. He has a smooth, even face. Nice teeth. He’s good-looking, is all Richie’s saying. Richie didn’t expect it. He’s not sure why it catches him off-guard.

They meet for the first time off the ice the day the Pioneers are scheduled to play Carolina. Morning skate is optional, but Richie drags himself in anyway because Bill expects him to, and Richie’s a sucker who doesn’t want to disappoint his captain, even after all this time. It’s not even that early when he stumbles in but he feels bleary and sluggish, pulling on his gear without participating much in the locker talk. Stan tries to rile him up a few times, but gives up fast when Richie refuses to take the bait. Mike nudges him when he walks past. “Rough night?” he asks, grinning like he knows the answer. Richie spent his night with a microwaved pizza and the highlights reel, but that’s nobody’s damn business, so he shrugs.

And then Bill comes out of Coach’s office. The team doesn’t exactly snap to attention whenever he’s around, but the chatter dies down to a dull murmur. Especially when someone follows him out.

Kaspbrak is wearing street clothes — sneakers, jeans, a fucking polo shirt. Richie wonders if that’s the sort of thing he always wears or if he dressed up for them. He looks more comfortable than he probably should, standing in front of a group of strangers who, up until this point, have only known him as an opponent. He’s smiling. He is just — really good-looking. Richie is sort of hung up on it.

“This,” Bill announces, “is Eddie. He’s going to practice with us this morning.”

The season hasn’t even officially ended. Patrick got pulled from the roster when the trade was announced, but he’s still around. His locker’s not even empty. Richie doesn’t like the guy or anything, but that has to be a tough pill to swallow. Richie can’t even imagine what being replaced like that would feel like.

On the other hand, he really, really wants to get out on the ice with Kaspbrak. He wants to see what the guy can do, up close and personal.

It’s a tough thing, being both impressed and annoyed by the sight of someone. It’s made worse by the way Bill stares him down until he manages to force a smile in Eddie’s direction. Kaspbrak grins back at him, easy. His teeth are stupidly perfect. None of them are chipped or anything. Richie can’t remember the last time he met a hockey player with a perfect face. Something about it freaks him out.

Bill claps Eddie on the shoulder. “Welcome to the team,” he says. Most of the guys echo the sentiment. Richie mumbles something that sounds close enough and finishes lacing up his skates.

He doesn’t have to play nice with Kaspbrak. He just has to play well with Kaspbrak. There’s a big difference, and Richie is clinging stubbornly to it.

—

The thing is, Kaspbrak is really fucking good.

Richie knew. Of course he knew. He hardly ever lets the losses get to him, because God knows there have been too many to remember them all over the years, but he’s been hung up on the Albany game for months now. He’s watched the playback more than once, and has most of Albany’s season saved to his DVR.

But it’s different in person. Kaspbrak is so fast. So steady on his feet. Richie hasn’t been impressed by something as simple as skating since he was a kid, but the way Kaspbrak does it shakes him up. The guy skates like a dream. Richie is so jealous, and so impressed, and so fucking confused. He’s spent the better part of the season hating this guy, and now he’s here, gliding around Richie in wide circles, lapping Bill and Ben and even Stan, looking like maybe he’s not even making much of an effort.

Morning skate is easy, most of the time. Everyone wants to be at their best for that night’s game, and half the team didn’t even show. But Eddie throws the dynamic off, makes them all a little hot and hungry for some actual play, and before Richie knows it, Mike and his rookie are guarding opposing nets and Richie’s facing off with Bill, staring at him through the grate of his helmet, his mouthguard clenched between his teeth. It’s not a real scrimmage. They don’t have enough players to run a real game. But Richie doesn’t care, because Stan volunteered as Bill’s winger, which left Kaspbrak all for Richie. Richie can feel him, on his right, just outside the face-off circle. Richie has this weird, sudden urge to look back at him, but then the puck is on the ground and there’s no time.

Bill is a vicious center. He’s not as fast as Richie, but he’s stronger. There’s a reason he plays defense. His body is one solid line of muscle, and he’s not afraid of using it. He shoulder-checks Richie, almost knocks him off balance with the force of it, but Richie bares his teeth and refuses to give up ground. Bill is probably a better player than Richie is in the long run, but Richie is the best center the team has ever had. He wrestles the puck out of Bill’s reach and bears down on the ice, shooting across the rink. Eddie is ahead of him. Richie hasn’t had a winger faster than him in so long he almost forgets to make the pass.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate. He moves like a blur, so fast it’s hard to keep track of his stick against the puck, driving it effortlessly forward. Mike is braced in the crease, his big body held wide, but he’s just not quick enough. Eddie comes at him from the side, bent down, stick jumping from one side of the puck to the other. And then it’s over. One second, he’s barreling down the rink, and the next, the puck is in the net — a perfect backhand shot.

It’s just practice. There’s no cheering, no booming announcement, no music. But Richie feels the same way he always does, his pulse loud in his ears, his heart tight in his chest.

“Kaspbrak!” he roars. “You son of a bitch!”

Eddie has the kind of smile that could melt the ice. He looks so pleased, so proud. Richie skates to him and throws an arm around his shoulder, smacking his helmet.

“We went easy on you!” Stan shouts, because he’s a sore loser.

“You kidding?” Richie yells back. “You couldn’t have caught him if you tried!”

Eddie’s shoulders shake. Richie leans into him, grinning, thrilled beyond measure. They drift a little on the ice, aimless, anchored together.

“It won’t happen again,” Bill says. He’s a competitive motherfucker, which makes him a great player and an even better captain. It won’t be easy, getting the puck away from him again.

Eddie grins up at Richie like maybe he’s up for the challenge.

—

Eddie scores two more times. He insists that they don’t call it a hat trick, considering it’s just practice and he’s scared of jinxing it. Richie doesn’t care what they call it. All he knows is Eddie scored three fucking times, and he assisted all of them. He doesn’t even mind that he wasn’t the one to make the shots. It’s better, almost, watching Eddie do it.

Bill lets morning skate go longer than normal, probably hoping to pull out a single goal, but after awhile he finally calls them off the ice. Richie is dripping with sweat when he peels himself out of his equipment. He didn’t realize how hard he’d been working. It hadn’t felt like much, being out there on the ice, falling into Eddie’s rhythm, into his gravity.

Eddie hangs back while everyone files out, looking around like maybe he’s still taking everything in. His hair is wet from the shower and his face is flushed. Richie nudges him on his way out. “Sure you can’t play with us tonight?” he asks. It’s not possible, but it makes Eddie beam.

“Won’t be long,” Eddie assures him.

Richie doesn’t say so, but he can’t fucking wait.

[vaguewrites]

The Morning After

I wrote a sequel to my Watch Dogs fic because I’m a horrible monster who can’t be stopped. Lots of swearing, mentions of smut and Aiden/Defalt ahead.

An alarm jolts him awake, the shrill buzzing right in his ears. For a few seconds Defalt doesn’t know where he is. He’s tangled up in sheets that aren’t his, there’s none of his posters or monitors on the walls and where there should be his closet there’s a door that leads into a bathroom. He sits up and pain shoots up his back and he grunts, falling back against the bed. There’s warmth next to him. A figure that groans and rolls over to grab the buzzing thing, a phone, and shuts off the alarm before tossing it aside. It’s Pearce.

He’s naked next to Pearce, in Pearce’s bed, in that shitty motel Pearce likes to hang out in, in Pearce’s bed. Because they fucked. First in Defalt’s hideout and then here, in a proper bed with pillows for Defalt to shove his face into to hide his own stupid high pitched moans. No wonder Defalt can’t feel his own fucking ass.

“Morning,” Pearce says, rubbing at his eyes, and Defalt doesn’t know why he’s bothering to make small talk. Isn’t this where one of them has to get up and get the fuck out? And by one of them, he means himself since this isn’t his place. Where are his clothes anyway?

“Hey,” he replies, and his voice is hoarse and raspy. Probably because he’d sucked Pearce off before crying on his dick like one of those twinks from the bad pornos. “What time is it?”

“Eight.”

Defalt groans. “Jesus fucking Christ, Pearce, why the fuck did you set your alarm that early?”

Pearce chuckles. It’s almost weird hearing him laugh. He almost doesn’t seem like the kind who does. Defalt has to look at him to make sure it is actually him and not some weird body double. He’s stretched out on the bed, one arm tucked under his pillow, staring up at the ceiling fan. He’s a hell of a lot more muscular than Defalt expected, but it’s not the kind you build up in a gym, but the kind you get from a lot of physical labour. Such as running around Chicago, climbing buildings and fucking up other people’s shit. Pearce is sturdy, thick and he’s got a light dusting of hair on his chest and stomach. There are scars too, some look like they came from bullets, some are pale and silvery from age and others pink and raw, probably a few weeks old. Defalt’s hands itch to touch him, to wander over his bulky frame and feel along each scar and hard curve of muscle. But he doesn’t.

“I didn’t think I was going to be up all night,” Pearce says. He throws Defalt a look. Defalt would almost call it mischievous but that doesn’t feel like the right word for Pearce. “You feeling okay?”

Defalt snorts. “You’re not that fucking big Pearce.”

“Not what you said last night.”

Defalt swats at him and Pearce catches his wrist. He thinks he’s just going to drop it but then Pearce pulls his hand in and kisses his knuckles. Defalt stills as he watches him. Pearce’s lips are soft and plump and his stubble scrapes his skin but Defalt kinda likes it this way. “What’re you doing?” He asks when he finally gets his voice to work. It feels like he’s swallowed cotton.

Pearce raises a brow. “Knitting. What does it look like?”

“Don’t you want me gone?” Defalt says before he can stop himself.

“Do you want to leave?” Pearce challenges him, then drops his hand and Defalt suddenly feels cold. He doesn’t know what to say to that. Does he want to leave? Normally when he hooks up with guys it’s always a comfy no strings attached deal where they both know it’s just a quick fuck and nothing more. He normally doesn’t sleep over, or let them sleep over. One of them is always gone after it’s over. With Pearce though, it’s different. He doesn’t know how or why it just is. Defalt could very easily just get up now and throw on his clothes and fuck off but he doesn’t. He stays in the bed, curled next to Pearce and chances throwing his arm over the man’s chest. Pearce doesn’t hesitate to pull him in, his rough, calloused hands smoothing over Defalt’s back.

“No,” Defalt says, because he feels he should probably say something.

Aiden kisses the side of his forehead. “Then don’t.”

Defalt rests his head in the crook of Aiden’s neck. He’s so warm it’s almost unreal, like a human furnace. Aiden holds him, rubbing his back until Defalt’s eyes grow heavy and he drifts back into sleep.

The next time he wakes up there’s no harsh ringing in his ears, but there’s also no Aiden in the bed with him. He sits up, winces, then glances down at a messily scrawled note left beside him.

“Sorry, T-Bone had a job, lunch later?”

Fucking T-Bone, Defalt thinks, tossing the note aside and gets up for a shower. He feels better after washing, then notices the amount of bruises and bite marks Aiden left on him, the bitch. The biggest one is on his neck. A deep purple colour that’s not gonna fade for a while. Defalt presses it and hisses as it stings a little. His shirt and hoodie don’t cover it but, hell, Clara and T-Bone are going to figure out they’re fucking eventually so there’s no point hiding it. And since Defalt doesn’t exactly want to spend the rest of the day cooped up in Aiden’s shitty motel room he decides he may as well head to their bunker.

That’s where he finds Clara, hunched over her laptop and typing away. She only spares him a glance, her perfectly drawn on eyebrow raised at his disheveled appearance.

“You look like shit,” she says, “I was trying to get through to you last night but you weren’t answering.”

“Yeah,” Defalt tries to hide his limp as he moves to sit beside her on one of the spare chairs. “Had stuff to do. Working on the next album. I’m behind as it is.”

Which is kinda true. That was what he was doing before Aiden railed him against his desk.

“You know if you’re struggling with work stuff you can take a back seat. I don’t think anyone will mind. T-Bone definitely won’t say shit.”

“Ah, I’m not worried about whatever the fuck T-Bone says,” Defalt leans back in the chair, one leg thrown over the other despite the ache in his lower back. “Where’s he at anyway?”

“The Loop. He and Aiden are following a lead. Though I think there’s more to it. T-Bone didn’t seem all that thrilled with Aiden this morning but I don’t know why. Which is weird because he adores Aiden.”

She doesn’t get to say anything more as the door slides open and Aiden and T-Bone step through. T-Bone looks as though he’s biting his tongue, his brows are furrowed but when he meets Defalt’s eyes he quickly looks away. That’s not unusual. He doesn’t meet his eyes often, even now when they’re supposed to be over the past. Well, over it is a kinda loose term. They got drunk together, Defalt screamed at him about his brother and how T-Bone was a fucking murderer and then they ugly cried in each other’s arms while T-Bone said he was sorry over and over. It’s obviously not fixed everything right away but it’s something, a start at healing. They’re not fighting as often at least.

“Jay, I need you,” Aiden says, hands shoved in pockets and voice gruff. It’s a little surreal seeing him being his regular stand-offish asshole self again after this morning, but Defalt shakes it off. They’re meant to be more “professional” now anyway.

“Alright. Text you later Clara,” Defalt says as he stands and Clara offers him a half wave. T-Bone watches as they leave and Defalt gives him an odd look because he can practically feel the tension rolling from him in waves. What kind of bitch fit did he and Aiden have?

He doesn’t find out until they’re halfway to the Mad Mile.

“He says I’m going to drag you down with me,” Aiden says. He’s gripping the steering wheel hard enough his knuckles are white.

Defalt frowns. “Do you care?”

“Yeah.”

Defalt doesn’t know what to say to that. He squirms in his seat, watching the buildings speed past. Something ugly and cold is curling in his chest. “So… This is a break up? Could’ve just said so before we got in the car.”

“I’m better at talking when I’m focused on something else,” Aiden says, “But if you want to get out I’ll stop us somewhere.”

“So you do want to break up,” Defalt grits his jaw. He’s not sure why he cares so much. He rests his head on his hand and stares out the window and tries not to think about the heat behind his eyes that threaten to spill over.

“I want to know what you want. I asked you this morning if you wanted to leave and you said no. I’m giving you that option again. I’m not the easiest guy to get along with, I know, and I’m definitely not the easiest to date. But I like you a lot, have for a while, and I’d like to try and make it work. I just don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck with me.”

“Stuck with you?”

“He brought up our age difference as well. How you might not want to settle down at all and I’m forcing you into it. How I’ll expect too much of you too soon. I don’t want to do that, Jay.”

“Sounds like you’re letting him do all the talking for me,” Defalt says.

“That’s why I’m talking to you now. What do you want?”

Defalt shifts again. What the hell does he want? He’d spent years focusing on his music and computers because it was what he was good at. He didn’t plan to make a career out of it, it just happened. He thought he wanted to kill T-Bone, wanted to make him suffer like he had. Only it turned out T-Bone had been living his own personal hell for years. So, in the end vengeance wouldn’t do jack shit. When it comes to dating, he was never with anyone for too long. He had a lot of demons and his boyfriends never had a lot of patience for it. Usually he was the one dumped. When he got famous for his music he couldn’t make time to date so he just hooked up with random guys when he could. But now… Hell, he still doesn’t fucking know. He’s liked Pearce too, he just never assumed the guy was into other guys. Last night was a huge fucking surprise.

“You,” he blurts out, and he almost misses the twitch of Aiden’s lips, “I mean, I’m willing to give this a shot if you are. Dating I mean.”

Aiden glances at him, deep green eyes full of so much fondness and Defalt’s not used to getting a look like that from anyone.

“Yeah. I can give it a shot,” Aiden says. “So long as you promise not to punch T-Bone when we get back.”

Defalt scoffs and folds his arms over his chest. “How’d he find out anyway?”

“He asked where you were because Clara couldn’t get a hold of you. I said you were with me.”

“Ah.”

The rest of the drive is in silence until they pull up to a bar. Defalt doesn’t get why they’re here until he sees Aiden looking at him expectantly and then he remembers the note.

“Oh, you lied about a job just to get me out for a date, Pearce?” Defalt can’t help the twitch of his lips.

“Technically I didn’t lie. I never said what I needed you for,” Aiden replies.

“Smart ass.”

“Thanks.”

Yeah, Defalt never thought much about what he wanted from life, other than causing another man pain. It’s almost bizarre to think how empty he’s always been, and just either never noticed or got too used to it. It feels like he’s woken up from some bad dream, or snapped back into reality after being trapped in his own head for so long. He’d thought he'd been living before, but now he realises he was just going through the motions, functioning but not attached to anything. It’s a stark contrast to now, where he feels so at home with Aiden, Clara and, fuck, even T-Bone, and he thinks about stuff outside of work and hacking and death. He doesn’t feel like himself anymore but maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe he had to be broken before he could fix himself back together. Maybe, as sappy as it sounds, Aiden’s the missing piece he needed.

[ofmargos]

chicago’s very own margo rosas has been spotted on madison avenue driving a mercedes-AMG G65 , welcome ! your resemblance to camila mendes is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-third birthday bash  . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re distrusting , but being passionate might help you . i think being a scorpio explains that . 3 things that would paint  a  better picture of you would be lipstick stained kisses on mirrors , doing vocal warm-ups five minutes before top of show , popping bottles of bubbly to celebrate buying a new pair of shoes . ( my biological dad paid off my mom to keep my relation to him a secret ) & ( cis-female + she / her  ) +  (  lia , 20 , she / her , cst )

whAT is up my dudes ! i’m lia & i lowkey missed wealthy & writing for my bbygirl margo so i’m rlly excited to be here !!!! if you know her from before i’m sorry lmao i’ve tweaked her background a bit but everything else is p much the same ig ?? she’s fun , she’s a dumbitch , & she’s here to make things harder than they need to be probs . but if you wanna know more , i wrote a novel below so plz enjoy that . if you wanna plot then LIKE THIS & i’ll slide in your im’s.or if you prefer discord hmu @  𝐛𝐛𝐧𝐨$𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐥#1904. i look forward to writing with y’all ! <3

S T A T S ↴

-- * FULL NAME : margaret lucia rosas -- NICKNAME(S) : margo ( preferred name , started introducing herself to people as “margo” back in like the 7th or 8th grade ??? who’s margaret ? we don’t know her ) , mar , mars -- * AGE : twenty-three -- * D.O.B : october 31 -- * ZODIAC : scorpio -- * GENDER : cis-female --* ORIENTATION : heterosexual heteroromantic -- * HEIGHT : 5′2″ -- * NATIONALITY : american -- * BIRTHPLACE : chicago , illinois -- * OCCUPATION : broadway performer -- * TRAITS : passionate , creative , dramatic , distrusting , outgoing , ambitious , fun-loving , loyal , daring , sarcastic , stubborn , overconfident , impulsive , hard-working , petty , secretive lowkey

B I O G R A P H Y ↴

( TW : BRIEF MENTIONS OF ABORTION, ALCOHOLISM, AND DRUG USE )

   first things first , i’m just going to say it-- margo was an accident . and her story begins with her mother , stassia , who was born and raised on the wrong side of the tracks in chicago , illinois . although she was born into poverty , she had big aspirations for herself and wanted a better lifestyle . her ambition and work ethic were unmatched , and that’s how she managed to get into columbia university ( thank you scholariship $$ ). stassia was in the middle of struggling through her college years when she met her future baby daddy . he was older , going through grad school , and the sole heir to a billion-dollar company . the sparks between them flew instantly despite their differences and they messed around for the better part of a year before the unexpected happened . stassia found herself taking a pregnancy test in the bathroom in between finals ( #justcollegethings , amirite ) and swore she was going to pass out when she noticed the double lines . and let’s just say that her baby daddy did NOT take the news well . a lot of horrible things were said that day . too many hurt feelings for the relationship ( that apparently was never that serious to homeboy ) to carry on . ( TRIGGER WARNING !!! ) so he cut all ties with stassia-- but not before giving her a crazy proposition : get an abortion and never talk to him again OR keep the baby but tell absolutely no one it’s his and never talk to him again . they both seemed like shitty options to stassia , who was actually tragically in love w him , but when he even offered to PAY HER a hefty sum ( i’m talking millions of dollars ) to keep the secret .. well-- it seemed like a blessing in disguise . she’d finally have the funds to live the life she always wanted . even if there was now a baby she didn’t plan for in the mix . so she took the hush money , had the baby in secret , and ran off to completely reinvented herself . ( TRIGGER WARNING END )

    although margo’s mother was born into poverty , margo certainly was not . by the time she was born , margo’s mom was ramping up to graduate college and join the high society in the heart of chicago . she got a good job , a lavish place to live , and never told margo about her past . margo grew up completely disconnected from her mother’s side of the family and had no idea of the lies she was being fed over the years . early on in margo’s childhood , her mother met a man through work who she would later go on to marry . that man is the only dad that margo has ever known . he and his daughter were a welcomed addition to their little family , making margo’s home life feel complete in some way . she was provided a good life with the dual income adding to the millions her mother kept . the life her mother always wished she had growing up . in a way , everything she did was for margo . she never wanted her babygirl to struggle like she had to .

   as she got older , margo went to all the best schools but only made average grades . she was never too concerned with academics and instead focused on her poppin’ social life and extracurriculars . during her middle school days , she developed an affinity for the performing arts . when everyone had to pick an elective , margo found herself in the theatre class and absolutely loving it . and she was good too . she had excellent stage presence and took every role she got in school productions in stride -- literally the best tree number 3 you’ve ever seen in your life . as she moved on to high school , she rose in the ranks of the theatre department until she was pretty much landing every single lead by the time she was an upperclassmen . acting was her passion , and she figured why not turn being dramatic and talking a lot ( her two most notable personality traits ) into a career . to really hone the craft , she trained herself to be a triple threat : actor , singer , and dancer ( sutton foster , eat your heart out ) . honestly truly had rachel berry in early seasons of glee vibes-- she knew she was the best around and wouldn’t stand to let anyone take the spotlight from her . her peers hated to love her talents because she acted like such a bitch to them offstage / out of character . not that margo really cared for what others thought of her anyway . self absorbed as ever , she told herself she didn’t need friends and generally pushed away any one that dared try to get close to her-- save for her sister . though somehow , someway she managed to get sucked into a small group of friends that would change her for the better ( s/o to ky and gio , sorry they had to put up w bitchy hs margo , rip )

   after graduating somewhere in the middle of her class , margo followed in her mother’s footsteps and went to columbia university . she was really only able to get in because she was a legacy and her parents made a considerable donation to the school , but we don’t talk about it . and to say that margo’s college years were transformative feels like an understatement . on one hand , they were some of the best years of her life : she got a true taste of independence , met some of her best friends ( s/o oliver and claudia ), and felt fulfilled to be in the city she had romanticized for so long-- new york baby ! but it was also a very low point for her . back in her high school years , she felt like a very big fish in a teeny tiny pond . she was hot shit , the top dog in her department , and all her hard work and effort to remain leading lady had paid off . however , at columbia she was just one in hundreds of talented people . some with more or less talent , or more or less connections , but they deserved a shot at fame just as much as she did . margo felt like she was fighting for her chance in the spotlight every single day and it was both parts exhausting and humbling for her . she had a amy march mentality “i want to be great, or nothing” and considered throwing in the towel . temporarily thrown off by the pressure to be successful , she took a small tumble from grace . ( TRIGGER WARNING !!! ) turning towards alcohol was her coping mechanism of choice . losing herself in the party scene and surrounding herself with other people that prioritized getting drunk or high over going to class and getting good grades had an obvious effect on her academic performance . ( END TRIGGER WARNING ) she almost lost her place in the BFA Theatre Program during her junior year due being on academic probation . it took a little bit of intervention on her close friends and family part to get margo clean and pull herself together . but by her senior year , she got back on track to graduate on time and participated in various shows at local theaters to build her resume . after almost losing everything she had ever worked for , a fire was lit under margo that had her determined to push herself hard than ever before and make a name for herself in the theatre world . 

   after she graduated from columbia she moved to new york permanently so that she could fully submerge herself in her work . not long after graduating , she was lucky enough to book several gigs including her big breakout role as lydia in beetlejuice the musical ! it really skyrocketed her into broadway stardom which is cool . a life long dream that once seemed unobtainable was suddenly a reality and she couldn’t have been more elated . with her sudden ( and well deserved ) success , she got a lot of media attention . soon she was getting verified on twitter , instagram , gaining a whole bunch of followers , and getting asked to be on talkshows and stuff to promote the show . honestly , truly a dream ! but her new-found fame gained the attention of another group of people .. her mom’s long lost family . one of her aunt’s ( that she previously didn’t know existed ) reached out to her through social media . and at first , margo honestly couldn’t believe that she had family that her mom never told her about . but after some thought it sort of made sense . in hindsight , her mom had always been evasive whenever margo asked about the other’s childhood or her side of the family .

   when margo told her mom about her aunt reaching out and how she wanted to meet her , her mom shut it down quick . stassia told her there were a lot of reasons that she didn’t talk to that side of the family and that was that-- PERIODT . but margo was #rebellious and went to meet with her aunt anyway . and that’s how she found out about her brazilian roots and her big ol’ loving and supportive extended family . that whole experience made margo reconsider what other things her mom was keeping from her . and boy oh boy was that a rabbit hole she shouldn’t have gone down . when margo started to demand her mother tell her the truth , it caused their relationship to grow tense . stassia eventually cracked and told her about her bio-dad and all the things she went through for margo . with the truth finally being exposed to her , margo started seeing things in a new light . like her whole life is kinda a lie and why didn’t her father want her ? where was he ? does he know who she is ? why did he never try to contact her ? has she ever walked past him in the streets and never knew ? it was all too much for her to think about so she just kinda ... shut it all out . she acted like nothing was different , even if her “ what if ” thoughts keep her up most nights . 

   if you just ignore the abandonment issues , insecurities , and her inability to handle emotions and focus solely on her success in material terms : margo’s doing really well ! she’s been living in new york full time for two (2) years now . she’s one of broadway’s most popular rising stars . having completed her run as the original lydia deetz on broadway , she’s moved on to take on the mantel of janis in mean girls on broadway . she’s learning , growing , and thriving . just trying to have a good time all the time with her friends and live the dream , baby !

P E R S O N A L I T Y  &  F U N  F A C T S ↴

margo is super fun-loving and down to clown 

will try anything once and it’s gotten her in trouble more times than she can count

also cannot stand to be bored , so she’s always looking for the next big adventure 

although she can be really ridiculous sometimes , she’s very serious when it comes to her work . she’s super hard-working and doesn’t let anything or anyone stand in the way of achieving her dreams : even herself

margo’s a very sociable girl and will talk to anyone and everyone . she’s the type that will hold a conversation for 2hrs with a stranger at a party and then when you ask her “who was that” she’s like “i don’t remember their name but i do know their entire life story so that’s cool”

has a way of making people feel like they know her really well when really she’s only letting them see 1/8th of her

keeps her personal life private normally unless you’re super good friends w her

i wouldn’t recommend pissing her off , bc she is petty as a mf and will lit rally never forget how one’s wronged her . this causes her to start fights sometimes . she’ll just bring up old shit out of no where and , since she’s nosy af , she makes everything her business and confronts people on their bs

she’s a whole liar bc she claims she’s a “retired party girl” but really party girl margo has never stopped , will never stop , can never be stopped

studied theatre in college but minored in mass communications just in case she needed a backup job

is v bad at being an adult !!!! like ... can’t cook , often forgets about her responsibilities until the last minute or needs to be reminded like 20 times , stills calls her parents to be like “how do u use a washing machine plz help” , y’know the drill . yet somehow she manages to act as a mom friend to the people that are closest to her ??? v much a “do as i say not as i do” type of hypocrite lol

she has a tiktok and posts dumb shit on there all the time w her friends and like vlogs her backstage experiences in the theater and does the stupid dances and all that stuff hehe

is learning portuguese after meeting the brazilian side of her family

self-proclaimed dancing queen and it’s not because she learned ballet , jazz , and tap whole dabbling in other styles but because when she’s drunk you will in fact catch her dancing on tables !!!!!

i cannot stress enough how bad she is at dealing with her own feelings . like ... instead of dealing with them head on she just ... shuts down . runs away . will ghost on someone she really likes just bc she’d rather leave first than get left and i hate her for it

have i mentioned how big her ego is ???? pHEW . she rides a v fine line between self confident and OVER confident . but tbh it’s just a cover up for how much she rlly hates herself , there i said it

loyalty is EVERYTHING to margo . if you got her back , she’s got your back . but if you screw her over or mess with anyone she loves then she’ll likely try to make your life a living hell IM SORRY

undiagnosed insomniac . nights she spends alone in her own bed are the hardest for her because it’s when all the bad scary thoughts creep up on her and no matter how much she wants to shut them out and just close her eyes and fall to sleep , she can’t . so she’ll often roam the city looking for a distraction or hit up her friends and bother them for some spare company

she’s doesn’t like to be alone ( not like in a romantic relationship sense -- she actually likes being single bc she’s afraid of letting ppl get close enough to hurt her ). hence why she’s always had a roommate even after she moved out of her parent’s house . if she’s not attached to her roommate / best friend kylie’s hip then she’s definitely hitting up her sister or her other friends to see if they want to hang out , even if hanging out is laying around doing nothing or running errands together . margo wants to tag along just for the company

notoriously known for coming up with terrible ideas or following through with other people’s terrible ideas without question bc #YOLO

she’s her pr agents worse nightmare simply bc she has no filter and will not change herself or what she posts just bc she has a big audience ( follow margo on social media and you’re gonna see the good , the bad , and the ugly she does not give a FUCK )

always has good intentions ! her execution / way of showing those intentions is just poor !

she is a rich girl that could not survive not being rich and doesn’t even realize how spoiled she is . spends money like it’s nothing

a mob boss ( this is a joke but also kinda not a joke )

WANTED CONNECTION PAGES HERE 

[bechloeislegit]

25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2019

Day 24 - CHRISTMAS CHOICES

Author's Prompt/Idea: [Sort of a post-PP3 fic, and the only Chicago mentioned, is the city] Beca is living in L.A. and runs into Jesse. Theo turns out to be a decent guy, and Beca decides to give him a chance. Now she's dating both of them without the other knowing. What will she do when she gets a life-changing offer from each of them? Who will she choose?

"Beca?"

Beca turns at the sound of her name. Her eyes widen, and she's quite surprised to see her ex-boyfriend, Jesse, standing a few feet away from her.

"Jesse!" Beca exclaims, rushing over to him.

Jesse stands there with his arms opened wide, waiting for her to reach him. She rushes into his arms, and Jesse wraps her in a warm hug.

"Oh, my God," Beca said, hugging him tightly. "I can't believe I ran into you."

Jesse chuckled and let Beca go. "I heard you were in L.A. Finally!"

"I know, it's surreal," Beca said. "Plus, I've been here for almost a year. I'm surprised we haven't run into each at least once by now."

"I've been working in Chicago for the past ten months," Jesse said. "I haven't been back in L.A. for very long."

"Hey, I was going to get a coffee. Do you have some time to join me so we can catch up a bit? Tell me why you were in Chicago for ten months."

"I'd love that," Jesse said and followed Beca into a nearby coffee shop.

~ Day 24 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases ~

An hour later, Beca's phone chimed with an appointment notification.

"I'm sorry, Jesse," Beca said, looking at her phone. "I have to go. I have a meeting with Khalid and Theo in twenty minutes."

"I understand," Jesse said. "It was great seeing you. I hope we can do it again."

"I'd like that," Beca said. "Is your number the same?"

"Yeah, it is," Jesse said.

"Great," Beca said with a smile. "I'll text you when I'm free."

"Can't wait," Jesse said, standing as Beca did. He hugged her quickly, and Beca rushed out of the coffee shop.

Beca rushed into the building and used the elevator ride to the eighteenth floor. When the elevator doors opened, she confidently walked off, smiling.

"What's got our resident badass smiling this morning?" Theo asked as he fell into step next to Beca.

"Nothing," Beca said. "Ran into an old friend this morning."

"That's nice," Theo said. "Are we still on for dinner tonight? I made the reservations for seven. Will you be done in the studio before then?"

"Seven is fine," Beca said. "Meet me at my office at six-thirty."

"I look forward to it," Theo said, giving Beca a toothy smile. "Now, Khalid is going to ask about studio time…"

Theo and Beca continued talking until they reached Khalid's office.

~ Day 24 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases ~

Eight months later, Beca was talking to Chloe about her Christmas plans.

"I'll pay for your ticket," Beca said. "Consider it my Christmas present to you."

"I don't know, Beca," Chloe said. "I usually go to my parents in Tampa for Christmas. They'll be expecting me."

"I know, but I haven't seen you in forever," Beca whined. "I have so much going on, or I'd come to visit you. Please think about it. I'll call mama Beale and beg her to let you come visit me if that's what it takes to get you here."

Chloe laughed. "I'll call my mom and let her know I won't be coming this year."

"Yes!" Beca yelled into the phone. "Thank you. I need you to help me figure out what to do about Jesse and Theo."

"Oh, poor, Beca," Chloe said sarcastically. "She's got two men who want her. You poor thing. Whatever will you do?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't need my best friend to help me, would I?" Beca said with a chuckle.

"Fine," Chloe said, laughing. "I'll let you know the dates I can be there. I have to go to work, so I'll talk to you later."

"Thanks, Chloe," Beca said. "I sincerely mean that. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Beca," Chloe said, ending the call.

Beca sighed and threw her phone on the desk. She sat back and thought about all that's happened in the past eight months.

~ Day 24 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases ~

Chloe let out a heavy sigh as she put her phone in her pocket. She wanted to see Beca, but she didn't want to see Beca with Theo or Jesse (again). Maybe she could invoke the best friend card and have Beca all to herself while she was in L.A.

"That won't work," Chloe mumbled to herself. "She'll want to tell me all about both of them so I can give her my opinion on who she should choose. My life sucks."

Several hours later, Chloe got home to what was now solely her little apartment. She placed her keys on the hook by the door and kicked off her shoes. She hung her jacket on the coat rack and turned to pull open the refrigerator.

After deciding to make a grilled cheese sandwich and heating some soup, Chloe sat at the small table and pulled out her phone and placed a call.

"Hi, mom," Chloe said when her mother answered her call.

"Chloe, sweetie," Charlotte Beale said. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Chloe said. "How are you? And daddy?"

"We're both good," Charlotte said.

"I called to let you know I won't be coming home for Christmas," Chloe said.

"What?" Charlotte asked, disappointment in her voice. "Why not?"

"I'm going to L.A. to spend Christmas with Beca," Chloe said.

"Oh," Charlotte said, her mood lightened. "Really?"

"It's not like that, mom," Chloe said. "Beca reconnected with Jesse, and she's dating him and Theo. She's not sure which one she should continue a relationship with, so she asked me to come to L.A. and help her decide."

Chloe sniffled, and Charlotte felt her heart ache for her daughter.

"Maybe you should tell her how you feel," Charlotte blurted out. "She can't choose you if she doesn't know you're an option."

"It doesn't work like that, mom," Chloe said sadly. "I'm her best friend, and that's all she sees me as. I don't want to go and see her with either one of those guys, but I have to because that's what a best friend would do."

"I'm sorry, Chloe," Charlotte said. "If you don't want to go, you can always tell her that I insisted you come home."

"Thanks, mom," Chloe said, smiling into the phone. "But, I already promised Beca. I'm going to finish dinner and jump in the shower. I'll talk to you in a few days."

"Okay, sweetie," Charlotte said. "We love you."

"I love you, too," Chloe said and ended the call.

~ Day 24 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases ~

Beca answered the incessant knocking on her apartment door.

"What the hell?" Beca exclaimed as the door was pushed open as soon as she turned the knob. "Jesse!"

"Oh, sorry, babe," Jesse said. "I got the best news today, and I had to come and tell you about it."

"What is it?" Beca asked as she took Jesse's hand and led him to the sofa.

"I got my dream job working with Silvercup Studios in New York," Jesse said, his smile spread from ear to ear he was so excited.

"That's great, Jesse," Beca said, hugging him.

"It is," Jesse said. "I move at the beginning of the New Year. And I want you to go with me."

"What?" Beca asked her face a mask of confusion.

"I realized in the last eight and half months how much I messed up when we broke up," Jesse said. "I love you, Beca. I think I always have. And I want us to be together. In New York."

"Jesse, my life is here now," Beca said, standing and starting to pace. "My job, my career is all here, in L.A. I can't just pack up and move back to New York."

"But there is so much for you there," Jesse said, jumping up to take Beca's hands to stop her from pacing. "There are plenty of studios you who would love to sign you.h. Plus, Chloe's still in New York, and I know how much you miss her."

"I don't know, Jesse," Beca said, her thoughts running through her mind at a hundred miles a minute.

"Think about it," Jesse said. "You don't have to answer right away. I'm leaving tomorrow to go to my parents for Christmas. I'll be back by New Year's. Give it until then and let me know what you decide. Just promise you'll really think seriously about it. Plus, you won't have to move immediately. I'll go to New York and get an apartment and set everything up, and then you can join me in a month or two. Okay?"

"Jesse," Beca said softly.

"Just, please, Beca? Think about it," Jesse said, his boyish grin and puppy dog eyes working overtime to convince her. "I have to run, but I'll call you later."

Jesse kissed Beca, and with a quick, I love you, he was gone.

~ Day 24 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases ~

The next day, Beca was still reeling from Jesse's announcement and wanting her to move to New York with him. She was sitting at her desk, staring at her computer screen, which had gone to sleep from lack of use.

"Hey," Theo said from the doorway, causing Beca to jump a bit.

"Hey," Beca said, looking over at Theo.

"Are you alright?" Theo asked.

"Yeah, just lost in thought," Beca said. "So, what's up?"

"I am taking you to dinner tonight," Theo said. "I have something very important to discuss with you."

"Oh," Beca said, eyebrows raised in question. "What is it?"

"All will be revealed tonight," Theo said with a smile. "I'll pick you up at seven and dress nice."

"Okay, sure," Beca said, somewhat absentmindedly.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Theo asked with some concern. "You don't seem to be yourself."

"I'm sorry," Beca said and stood to put her arms around Theo's waist. "I have a lot on my mind. I'll be better by the time we have dinner."

"Good," Theo said and kissed Beca. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah, see you later," Beca said.

After Theo was gone, Beca flopped back down in her chair and thought about Jesse and Theo.

~ Day 24 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases ~

The next day, Beca was an emotional wreck. She was waiting at the airport for Chloe to arrive and couldn't sit or stand still, so she paced back and forth. She was glad she was able to have a car and driver available, so she didn't have to drive.

Beca spotted Chloe coming toward the baggage claim and ran to meet her. The two collided and wrapped their arms around the other in a hug.

"I've missed you," Chloe mumbled in Beca's hair.

"I've missed you, too," Beca mumbled into Chloe's shoulder.

"I need to get my bags," Chloe said, trying to pull out of the hug, only to have Beca tighten her grip.

"Not yet," Beca said, causing Chloe to smile and sink back into the hug.

Chloe could practically feel the tension leaving Beca's body. They stood there until the buzzer sounded, indicating the luggage was on the belt and coming out.

Beca let go of Chloe, and they made their way to the carousel. Beca's driver asked which bag, and Chloe pointed one out as it came around.

"Is that it?" Beca asked.

"No, that one's mine, too," Chloe said, pointing to another bag.

The driver took the two bags and followed behind Beca and Chloe. Chloe, of course, wrapped her arm around Beca's and leaned into her as they walked.

"So, you have your own driver now," Chloe said. "I feel so special."

"You are special," Beca said, causing Chloe's hear to skip a beat.

Beca and Chloe were seated in the back of the SUV, and Beca told Chloe everything that had happened with Jesse and Theo over the past few days.

They arrived at Beca's apartment building, and Beca led Chloe and the driver to her apartment. As soon as Beca opened the door, she stood aside to let her driver place Chloe's luggage inside.

"Thanks, Ben," Beca said as the driver turned and left.

"Merry Christmas," Ben said.

"Merry Christmas," Beca and Chloe said together.

Ben left, and Beca closed the door as Chloe stood and looked around the apartment.

"Wow," Chloe said. "Who decorated this place? I know it wasn't you. Too Christmassy."

"Hey," Beca said, laughing. "I'll have you know that I hung the wreath on the door."

"And it looks exquisite," Chloe said with a grin.

"I hired someone to decorate for me," Beca said. "Only because I knew you'd never survive Christmas without the place being overly-decorated."

"Thank you," Chloe said with a smug grin. "You can show me around later. I'm hungry, can we order something and stay in tonight? We can finish our talk about Jesse and Theo."

"Sure," Beca said, smirking. "One good thing is that they're both gone until after Christmas. You won't have to compete with them for my attention."

"As if there was any competition," Chloe said. "I will always win."

"That's true," Beca laughed. "So, what do you want to have for dinner tonight?"

"Mexican?"

"I know just the place," Beca said, pulling out her phone.

After Beca ordered, Chloe asked if she could change into something more comfortable. They each grabbed one of Chloe's suitcases, and Beca led Chloe to the guest room.

"Wow," Chloe said upon entering the bedroom. "This is nice."

"I had it decorated like this because the colors remind me of you," Beca said. "And I wanted you to like it so you'd visit more often."

"I might just take you up on that," Chloe said, setting her suitcase on the bed and opening it.

"I'll let you change," Beca said. "Come to the living room when you're done."

"Thanks, Beca," Chloe said as Beca left the room.

~ Day 24 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases ~

The food arrived just as Chloe came back to the living room. Beca noticed that not only had Chloe changed into sweats and a t-shirt, but she had removed her makeup as well.

"You are not real," Beca said, looking at Chloe. "No one should look that good without makeup, and yet, here you are, looking better than anyone has a right to."

"Thanks, Beca," Chloe said, blushing. "That's so sweet."

Chloe kissed Beca on the cheek, and Beca blushed. Chloe sat on the sofa and started looking in the bags of food. She set everything on the table as she removed it from the bag.

"Beer?" Beca asked.

"Yes, please," Chloe responded.

Becawent to the kitchen and came back with two beers. She handed Chloe a beer, and they both settled on the sofa and started eating. Beca asked Chloe about her job search after getting her teaching degree. Chloe answered and asked Beca about her album.

They had been sitting in comfortable silence for a bit as they finished their food. Chloe wiped her mouth and took a sip of beer.

"We need to get back to the conversation we had in the car," Chloe said. "We got to the point where Jesse asked you to move to New York with him, and Theo had asked you to move in with him here. So, what are your thoughts?"

"I don't know," Beca said, putting the last bit of her taco in her mouth.

Chloe waited as Beca ate and then drank some beer. She knew Beca was gathering her thoughts, so she sat quietly, waiting for Beca to begin talking.

Beca set her beer on the table and looked at Chloe. Chloe looked back at Beca.

"Okay, so, I know I should feel bad because Jesse doesn't know I'm dating Theo, and Theo doesn't know I'm dating Jesse, but I don't. And I know it's a dick move to date both of them at the same time, but I like each of them equally, but neither of them has stood out as being a better option over the other. I might love them both, but I don't feel that I'm in love with either one."

Chloe swallowed and tried not to show how painful it was for her to listen to Beca talk about the two people she loved, and neither of them was her.

"So, what are the things you like about Theo?" Chloe asked.

"Well, Theo is easygoing and has helped me navigate through the ups and downs of being a recognized recording artist. It is somewhat unsettling when you're not used to it. He's charming and always the gentleman. He always makes me smile whenever we are together. He is all the right things about the entertainment side of my life."

"And what about Jesse?"

"Jesse is easygoing as well, and he's still the goofy guy I fell for back in college. He is the memories of a somewhat calmer time in her life. He also always makes me smile whenever we are together. He feels safe," Beca said. "Wait, no, I mean, I feel safe when I'm with him."

"Sounds like you have a really tough decision to make," Chloe said and yawned.

"That's why I need your help," Beca whined, looking at Chloe. "They are both great guys, and I should be able to pick one of them. I just don't know how to choose or who to choose."

"I'm sorry, Beca," Chloe said, yawning again. "I'm exhausted. Can we pick this up in the morning? I'll be refreshed then and can give you proper insight into your oh so tragic dilemma of two mean wanting you."

"Shut up," Beca said, shoving Chloe's shoulder.

Chloe laughed and leaned down to hug Beca. "I'll see you in the morning.

"I'm glad you're here," Beca said, pulling out of the hug.

"Me, too, Becs," Chloe said. "Me, too."

~ Day 24 of 2019's 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases ~

Beca tossed and turned most of the night, thinking about what she was going to do. When she woke the next morning, she was no closer to a decision than when she went to bed the night before.

Beca couldn't take the tossing and turning and got out of bed early. She made a pot of coffee and was sitting at her counter, staring into her cup when she heard Chloe coming down the hall.

"Hey, Chlo," Beca said when Chloe came shuffling into the kitchen. "How'd you sleep."

"Okay, I guess," Chloe said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "I tossed and turned quite a bit. At one point, I almost came into your room to make you cuddle with me."

Beca laughed. "I'm glad you didn't. I tossed and turned as well and didn't get much sleep."

"Still haven't decided what to do about Jesse and Theo?"

"No," Beca said. "All I do know is that I like being in L.A. But, on the other hand, you're still in New York, so that would be a plus if I chose Jesse. Theo is a big part of my life and career right now, and he's getting me recognition. He can also help me transition to being a producer, which is a plus for him."

"Okay," Chloe said. "I was thinking about this after I went to bed last night. I have an exercise I want you to do."

"I'm too tired to exercise," Beca whined, laying her head on the counter.

"It's not a physical exercise," Chloe said. "It's an emotional exercise."

Beca lifted her head. "Emotional exercise?"

"Yeah," Chloe said. "You just have to listen. I'm going to give you a scenario, and you have to say who you see in that scenario with you. Understand?"

"I think so," Beca said. "Hit me with it."

Chloe took a sip of her coffee. "Okay. There was a Grey's Anatomy episode where Callie has to decide whether or not to follow her girlfriend Penny when she moves to New York."

"I didn't watch most of that season," Beca said. "I shipped Callie and Arizona and hated Penny. Still do."

"Me, too," Chloe said. "But, that's not the point. Anyway, so Bailey tells Callie to close her eyes and think about the future. So, close your eyes."

"Do I have to?" Beca asked.

"For this to work, yes, you have to," Chloe said.

"Fine," Beca said, closing her eyes.

"So, picture a few years from now, and your daughter is playing soccer for Team USA in the Olympics. You're in the stands watching, and your daughter kicks in the winning goal. Can you see it, Becs?" At Beca's nod, Chloe continued. "Everyone in the stands is shouting Mitchell, Mitchell, Mitchell, and you are shouting louder than anyone else. You look over to the person standing next to you, and they are cheering as loud as you are. Who is standing next to you, cheering on your daughter, Jesse or Theo?"

Beca keeps her eyes closed; she turns her head as if looking to see who is standing next to her. She furrows her brow and turns her head to the other side. Her eyes suddenly fly open, and she stared wide-eyed at Chloe.

"So who is it, Becs?" Chloe asked. "Theo or Jesse? Who's standing next to you, cheering on your daughter with you?"

"You," Beca whispered.

"What?" Chloe let out a small gasp.

"It's you," Beca said, louder. "It, it's always been you. I can't believe I just now figured it out. Oh, my God, Chloe! I'm in love with you, and I think I have been for a while." Beca realized what she had just blurted out, and her face reddened. "Shit."

Beca looked scared and stared at Chloe. She noticed Chloe wipe a tear from her eye.

"Are you for real right now?" Chloe asked sniffling.

"I, uh, yes, I am," Beca said in wonderment. "I'm sorry if this makes you-"

Chloe smashed her lips to Beca's, causing a grunt of surprise to escape from Beca's lips. Chloe pulled back, and Beca grabbed her around the neck and pulled her back into another kiss.

"Wow," Beca said when the kiss ended.

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked.

"I've never been better," Beca said, smiling. Her smile dropped as she asked, "Are you okay?"

"I am now," Chloe said, smiling. "I've wanted to tell you how I felt for the longest time, but our timing always sucked."

"You mean, you love me, too?"

"Yes," Chloe said. "I mean, I love you, too."

Beca kissed Chloe again.

"This might just be the best Christmas ever," Beca said.

"What about Jesse and Theo?" Chloe asked. "Aren't you cheating on them with me now?"

"Shit," Beca said. "I forgot about them." Beca thought for a moment before saying, "But, honestly, I feel like I've been cheating on you with them. I'll call them both later and tell them my decision."

"Which is?" Chloe asked. "I just need to hear you say it again."

"My decision is that I choose you," Beca said. "Now, enough about them. Right now, I want to focus all my attention on you."

"Good answer," Chloe said, pulling Beca to her.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Yay! Finally - 24 down, 1 to go. Thanks for hanging in there with me. Day 25 will be up in a day or two (I need to give it one more read before I post it).

[frankpanioncube]

Costco Adventures

Somehow, @loganthrives and I got onto the idea that it’d be hilarious to see demons in a costco. And I wrote it. I used @loganthrives and @wowanothergotdamnedartist ‘s oc’s with my own. And I hope it’ll be funny

Lord Diavolo had issued a decree - a human needed human supplies, then it was necessary to go to the human world for such things

“We need to get lots of stuff in a bit of a hurry. We need to make sure they have bathroom things and all sorts of food that’s safe for humans. How do we do that? And quickly?”

“We use Costco.”Logan suggested. “There are plenty of them all over the world.”

“Oh. Good point” Kotomi nodded. “You know, I have to say, living here I almost forgot about all our human stuff. It just seems second nature to use Akuzon now.”

“You know, I know what you mean.”

Logan nodded at her fellow human by way of a reply.

“This is excellent.” Solomon said and that should have been the warning this whole thing was going to go off the rails extremely quickly. 

“Costco it is!”

And that should have been the end of it, but this was the seven Demon brothers and also...Diavolo. Plus two angels and three humans. Honestly no one was sure where they were. Could have been London, could have been Bangledesh. Could have been Toronto.

(It was actually Chicago)

“Oh look. There’s hotdogs and pizza and blue drink. What does blue drink taste like?”

It took a moment for the humans to register Diavolo was addressing them. “It’s usually blue raspberry.”

“How exciting! And I do believe I would like to try this bubblegum stuff. Is this what pink tastes like? Ah, Lucifer, you must try this!”

“Of course, Lord Diavolo.”

“And this is...raspberry but...blue?”

“Yes. It’s very common by modern standards.”

If the prince of hell wasn’t going to try to figure it out no one else had any options.

“Maybe I could ask Heavenly Father.”

“And let’s not do that, Angel.”

Winter shrugged at Satan but left the issue alone.

“It’s wonderful.”

It was almost normal by Diavolo’s standards. No one (wisely) asked where Diavolo got a blue raspberry ice pop out of the clear blue.

“Wonderful.” Beel and Winter had hit the food stand already and Asmo had disappeared down some aisle that had health and beauty products, leaving Mammon, Lucifer, Belphegor and Satan to turn to their humans for any actual shopping. Levi had seen the TV’s not ten seconds after walking in and run.

“How are we supposed to get things from the top shelves.” Belphegor complained.

“Oh how easy. Did you forget your own twin has wings? And so do some of us. Lucifer fly up there.”

“Oh hell yes. Any day Lucifer looks like an idiot please and thank you.” 

“Lord Diavolo there is toilet paper on the ground here.”

“Get the one at the top. It’s more fresh.”

No one had the heart to tell Diavolo toilet paper didn’t have a shelf life. Or maybe, just because it was the demon prince’s shenanigans. Either one made sense.

“Oh this is the best day ever.” The wings had been all out of balance since Lucifer fell and with all members of the Lucifer Sucks club present this was like Christmas.

As it turned out, the party was down by a bunch which made Solomon’s arrival at the cart with boxes extremely conspicuous.

“Asmo asked me to get them.”

Lucifer shook his head. “I very much doubt my brother asked you to get...24 packs of chicken salsa taquitos. I might believe Beel but this is your worst lie ever.”

They were in the cart. The now by MUCH put upon Avatar of Pride shook his head, but Diavolo stopped his hand. “Oh but humans like them! That is a human!”

And the group they were supposed to be buying for had gotten cut by a third.

“Where is Logan? And Belphegor and...anyone who didn’t stay at the food court.”

***

“Come with me!” “Belphegor had whispered. 

Logan was a tougher human than most but Belphegor usually didn’t do her wrong and they found themselves being lead away from Diavolo and the toilet paper and into a large display in the centre of the store.

“There’s a bed right here. Come on, let’s try it out.” 

Logan had always prided themselves on being at least a bit more willful than that but apparently there was no stopping Belphegor when he wanted to cuddle. They got into the bed - it was….a bed, they guessed. Nothing to write home about and honestly they were messing up a display. They’d done their dues in retail before being asked to the Devildom - maybe not a Costco but this had to be a retail worker faux pas.

“Okay. We’ve tried it out and…”

Logan wasn’t sure if it was some trick of the Avatar of sloth or whether this bed was comfy or whether Belphegor was the comfortable one if he was hugging you, But allri---

Kevin drove a fork lift. That was his job. He rotated stock. He had a rapport that was decent with his coworkers. Every so often Amran the sample dude would give him whatever the store was hocking if he was in the vicinity. So how in the hell there was what seemed to be two people cuddled up in the display bed?

He...decided not to disturb them.

Although...when next he drove his forklift around after his break...they were on a porch swing.

Just how? And HOW did that man have a tail. Maybe he was one of those furries...that was a thing. Well...Kevin wasn’t a judge. He got back on his forklift.

---

“Okay sho...Sho I don’t half to pay for these?”

“The idea is, SIR….” and the sales lady said that with a very implied suggestion that ‘keeping her job’ was the only reason the individual before her ought to receive any sort of title  “That you pay for them if you like them. They’re samples.”

“But they’re FREE samples, right?”

The poor human was definitely not paid enough to be dealing with this level of shit. “Would you please buy a box? Or maybe ten? ”

“Oh...Oh hell yeah. Hell yeah my brother will. Lemme take these and I’ll add them to the cart. But thanks for lunch! Pretty good food ya humans got here.”

“Thank you? Uh...human?”

“Don’t worry about--”

“I’m so sorry. It’s apparently Mammon’s first time being around people. We’ll buy your stuff...too.”

Kotomi sighed and grabbed almost her fifth box from the random samples. “Sometimes I think you should be the Avatar of Gluttony…” she muttered.

“Well if they ain’t nailed down they’re free. And I ain’t gonna pass up a free lunch ya know.”

Lucifer and Diavolo were looking at some toothpaste when the human and the avatar of greed caught up. Kotomi dumped ten boxes of all the free sample products Mammon had ate across the store.

“Are these things you need?”

“Yes. They are things we need because Mammon decided to make a meal of the samples.”

Lucifer grit his teeth. 

Diavolo nodded peaceably. “Ah, well we can’t have enough. I had never thought chimera would be poisonous to humans but happy accident we were able to help. These...pizza bagels are evidently more to human taste being they’re sold in a human shop.”

Wherever Logan and Soloman were right now, there would be a human plot to get Lucifer to eat a pizza bagel. It would probably be hilarious.

___

It was predictable enough that Beel gravitated towards any place that served food just as Levi was likely looking at the wall of televisions (he was) . It was also predictable that Winter accompanied the Avatar of Gluttony.

“Beel I’m really full. I don’t think...Why don’t you finish this?”

“Oh wonderful!” 

The angel breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m just going to rest my head here. You keep eating.”

“I can’t believe this food is so cheap!”

“I can’t believe I ate five hotdogs.”

“I’m proud of you.” Beel said around a mouthful. “I worry about you.”

Winter managed a smile. “You know you don’t need to. I’m just fine. And most of us don’t need to eat as much as you do. But it’s sweet you worry.”

And with that the angel slipped into a food coma. 

“Oh! Lucifer...you guys are back. Ah….you think you could settle up?”

“Beel...this board says the pizza and hotdogs are $1 each. How the hell did you rack up…$89.95?”

“Is that angel okay?“ Diavolo whispered

“She’s an angel - she’ll just be groggy and bloated.”

Winter managed a slight noise that was best translated as ‘Mrr’ before cuddling into Beel’s arms.

“Ah are we checking out? The distraction from the over full Angel (who seemed to be well...angel like gorgeous despite being slumped over Beel’s shoulders) was a shock to all. 

“Satan and Levi.” 

Lucifer’s joy at not having to track down anyone else was a bit short lived when he saw what Satan was carrying.

“What is that?” By this point the Avatar of Pride was just resigned.

“An HD TV with 3D Capabilities.” 

“And a PS5.”

“Is that a thing now?” Kotomi asked.

“Oh, actually yes.” That was Soloman. “iS that the 250 gig one?”

“Yes indeed!” the otaku chirped. “And I’ll even put it in the common room.”

“...goody.” 

“What was that, Lucifer?”

“I said, where are Logan and Belphegor? Also did anyone keep tabs on Asmo? I…”

“Uh hello? Hi...hi there hello?” A man in a Costco uniform was running across the parking lot. “

“Um...okay this is going to sound super weird but are you people...um...are you with the um...the two people in the bed in Asle 19?”

“Probably.” Diavolo spoke up.

“Okay one of them has a cow tail and the other is a white chick with some---”

“Yes. Yes they’re with us. Can we get them back?”

“Please.” Kevin said, who literally had never had a weirder day. “Do you...do you maybe want to take the guy in Aisle 5 too? He just checked out with about five boxes of lotion and facial masks and just about everything from the cosmetic section...he’s a little dude but wow you all….I mean….wow.”

“Thank you for the compliment kind human! We all loved your store and we got plenty of stuff for the humans.”

It didn’t take too long for the weird little party to leave the Costco with the strangest break room conversation.

Kevin the forklift guy apparently went to mandatory counselling because he swore he saw a door open into hell and swallow a whole bunch of weird customers. 

[bechloetoxicgirls]

Canyon Moon Chapter 1

Fat Amy POV: I walked out of my car with Beca behind me. I had on my sunglasses and I put my hand over my face to block the hot sun from my eyes. “This is it girls,” I said as three more girls rose from the car behind me. Jessica and Ashley rolled out of the trunk groaning. “This is pretty cool, I guess” said Beca half-heartedly. Beca had been really upset upon receiving the invitation to Chloe and Chicago’s wedding and all of us had been named bridesmaids. To everyone’s surprise, Aubrey was the maid of honor and not Beca which only made things more awkward between Chloe and Beca. When they were in college and afterwards too they were roommates. I noticed how close they were so I gave them plenty of room to hang out but once Chloe started dating Chicago, things got tense and Beca started distancing herself from Chloe. Chloe’s invitation came out of the blue in sparkly pink handwriting. I pretended not to notice that night when I heard Beca’s sobs.

“This is a really nice spot 👌 for a wedding,” said Jessica. “Though it is hot as hell!”

“Yeah”, replied Ashley, “but not as hot as Chicago! I can see why Chloe picked him!”

Unfortunately, this was when Beca chose to walk into the conversation. She winced at the mention of Chicago’s name and stared despondently into the distance.

Beca POV

I’ve been dreading this day. Chloe is going to marry a dimwitted airhead because like all straight girls, her taste is absolute garbage. She probably thinks young Joe Biden is hot. I just hope that I can hold it together during the ceremony. Thank God Chloe asked Aubrey to be the maid of honor. I don’t think I could take it, having to give a toast to their happy future when all I really want to toast to is my marriage with her. I’m not even sure if I can stand being a bridesmaid. (I’ll just have to channel my inner Taylor Swift and pretend to be straight.)

I am 5'10 suck it lindsey <becqa is like 5’ 2”>fake news probably from salty lindsey

“Ready to go?” Asked Amy, “we’re grabbing lunch with Chloe and the rest of the gurlz at Chipotle”

I snapped out of my reverie to reply, “sure, yeah, sounds good,” but my mind was still filled with thoughts of chloe.

Chloe POV

I take a deep breath before walking into the restaurant. This is the first time all the girlz are together in 3 years and I don’t know what to expect. Mostly, I was worried about Beca. She’s grown more and more distant over the past few years, despite my constant texts and invitations to meet up. After I announced my engagement, she stopped replying at all, so I had to choose Aubrey as my maid of honor, which has gone exactly the way I expected. COMPLETE bridezilla.

Someone clears their throat behind my and I jump, realizing I’m blocking the door. I skitter like a rat out of the way, apologizing, but the person doesn’t move. I finally look up and see Beca staring at me.

“Hey” Beca mutters and pushes past me.

“Hewwo?” I call after her, confused. Is she mad at me?

Before I can run after her, Aubrey appears next to me so suddenly I feel sure that she has teleported and it makes me jump.

“Why aren’t you getting ready for the rehearsal dinner?” She asks me forcefully. “I specifically told you half an hour ago to go to your room and change because the dinner will be starting at any moment but you’ve just been standing here lingering by the door.” I wasn’t processing what she was saying because my thoughts were elsewhere but I made out that I was supposed to go to my room.

I went to my hotel room across the street with my head filled with the way Beca had just brushed past me like I didn’t even matter. When I got back to my room, I laid down on my bed and cried until my head hurt and I was exhausted. I let my eyes close and allowed myself to forget about Beca in my dreams. Or so I thought.

It’s the day of the wedding. I look in the mirror and sigh. Yes, I look stunning and my hot bod fits perfectly in my dress, but it’s for the wrong person. Chicago is great, but I just don’t feel passionate about him. All our conversations feel like small talk.

“Ready?! You have to hurry, the wedding is starting!” Aubrey screeched. I rubbed my ears(which are quickly losing their use to her obnoxious voice) and got up. I resisted a last look in the mirror-I didn’t need to see my miserable expression again-and headed out of the room.

As I walked to the hall(what’s the main part of a church called? I know i’m a fake christian), I tried to amp myself up. This wouldn’t be so bad. I need to get over Beca anyways, she’s happy with tort boi, sad as that makes me. Chicago is loving and kind and he loves me, and as for me, well, I’ll just fake it till I make it. I walked down the aisle oblivious to my surroundings, but when I looked up at my groom, Beca was there, looking gorgeous in a tailored dress. She always did have good taste.

“Why are you here? Where’s Chicago?” I asked, stunned into oblivion.

“Why would you need him? You know I’m all you need. We are aca-perfect,” she replied, her voice soothing. Too soothing. And since when was Beca so forthright and mystical? I opened my mouth to jumble together a response, but all that came out was

“Chloe! You are drooling all over my bed! Nap on your side, puh-leAse!”

Ugh. So it was a dream. Aubrey was still deafening though. I guess that’s the very essence of her soul.

“Anyways, you can’t be napping, you’re the woman of the hour! Tonight is the rehearsal wedding, and everything has to be perfect!” she snapped again, her pinched mouth reminiscent of a snapping turtle. Huh. Maybe she and Theoi should get together.

That line of thinking wasn’t going to get me anywhere, so, with a Herculean effort, I got out of bed, grimaced at the drooled-on pillow, and went to get ready.

Chicago POV

I can’t believe I’ve let it get this far. I mean who knew that when I saw a pretty girl touring with her failing a capella group, it would last this long? And now I don’t know how to get out. But I have to.

I threw off the sheets and rolled out of bed, shivering because Chloe had turned up the AC so high, but she didn’t even stay the night. Our hotel had lots of pictures (over 12) of the Grand Canyon, despite being an almost hour drive away. I tried to picture us saying our vows with the beautiful red rocks in the pictures behind us, but it just didn’t sit right. I knew I had to do something.

I took a quick piss outside (I don’t believe in modern plumbing), and decided to call Chloe.

She picked up the second time I called her, sounding half asleep even though it was already eleven.

“What?” She asked urgently, as though something was wrong.

“Uh, nothing, i was just wondering where you were since you didn’t come back last night.”

“Oh! I just, uh, decided to spend some time with the old gal pals. You know, catch up on life and stuff. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Um… okay,” I said, even though I did understand, because she was just talking to her friends, “are you coming back soon? I kind of want to talk.”

“Yeah sure,” she responded, but seemed distracted by something (or someone) else, because she abruptly said, “catch you later,” and hung up.

I knew we had to talk about our future, because even though she was excited about the friends, and the food, and the planning, I felt, I knew, she was just a little bit less excited about me. This marriage was not going to end in divorce 6 months later if I could help it, so my options are call it off right now, or fake it till we make it. And I think the second option was going to be a little bit harder, so I decided the stronger one of us would have to do something (and I am stronger because I am in the army).

Beca POV

I can’t stop thinking about that moment with Chloe. Seeing her after so long, it all came back to me, no matter how much I’d tried to repress it. Her constant peppy texting had caused me a mental breakdown every time I got a notification. It got to be too much and I had to give her a random number from a burner phone to text instead, like I did with Theo. When I saw her at the restaurant I just froze and couldn’t speak. Also she yelled hewwo and I didnt like that.

Now I’m trying to get ready for the rehearsal dinner, but this dress is uuuuugly. I’m pretty sure Aubrey picked it out because she hates me more than usual recently. The dress is also really tight, too tight to breathe. I give up on making it look nice and cut it crudely down the front with scissors. Hopefully no one will notice. I see that I’m late for the dinner and run out of my room, straight into Theo, the turtle man.

“W.T.F.?!?! What are you doing here?” I demand, angry that he’s slowing me down.

“Woah, heh heh, why are you so worked up?”

I practice my Miss Congeniality self defense - Solar Plexus, Instep, Nose, Groin - and step over him curled up on the floor like a grub.

As I run away from his body on the ground, I turn a corner and run straight into a hotel attendant in the hallway. She staggers a little and almosts trips but I catch her by grabbing her arm to steady her. “Oh I’m so sorry!” I say and she smiles at me.

“That’s okay,” she says and I smile back. She frowns and says “are you okay?” I turn serious and say “ummm… yeah.. Why?”

“It’s just that your smile looks more like a grimace and your dress is all cut up,” and I flinch at because she was right and I wasn’t doing okay. “Do you have a minute? I ask and when she nods, I unload everything I had been feeling lately and about how I really felt about Chloe and how I really felt about this wedding.

“I am so sorry for you,” she said, placing her hand on my arm and rubbing it. “Do you need anything?”

“Actually, yeah,” I say hesitantly to her because I was worried my new friend would be scared off at my request. “Do you think you could walk me to my dinner?”

She smiles and says, “Of course,” Taking my hand, she says “I’m Sophia, by the way.”

“Beca” I say and we walk hand in hand down the hallway of the hotel.

Chloe POV

yeetmsaaaaaAAAaaa chaotic writer, i am, the universe’s power, i Have aaayyyyeeee

I’m at the rehearsal dinner, some snooty restaurant that Aubrey picked. You’d think she’s the one getting married, with the amount of planning she’s put into this. Annoying as she is, I cannot deny that she is dedicated to making my ‘best’ day perfect. Sadly, she can’t change the fact that the person I’m marrying is in no way perfect for me.

Don’t think like that, I reminded myself. You need to fake it till you make it.

“Chloe?” called Chicago, “Can we talk?”

“Yeah, sure-,” I replied halfheartedly, since Beca had just walked in with another girl. They were holding hands and looked friendly. Too friendly. Wasn’t she with Theo? Too many emotions flooded into my mind-sphere and I recoiled from the shock. Had they broken up? I repressed the joy I felt from that thought. It probably wasn’t true, and besides, she was with someone else anyways. But I always thought she was straight… No she was probably just friends with this girl, you know how normal american girlz act… But if she was with this girl, was she cheating on Theo? Should I let him know or let the relationship fall apart on its own? Was this a short fling? Would-

“Chloe! You all right?” asked Chicago, concerned. I shook my head, muttered a “yeah, fine” and followed him off to one of the changing rooms.

“Sorry about this, I wanted to talk somewhere… private,” he explained in a low tone.

Private? What was that supposed to mean? He wasn’t trying to…

“There’s no easy way to put this. But I… this isn’t working. And I’m sorry I’ve let our relationship get this far, but… It was so easy to get carried away. I just don’t feel passion for you,” Chicago said, his face a perfect picture of apology and shame.

Oh thank god, he wanted to break up. I let out a short laugh, which might have not been the best thing to do.

“Sorry,” I quickly replied, “It’s just… I’m relieved. I’ve been feeling the same way. It’s been a while since I’ve felt more than friendliness towards you. At least we didn’t get married yet!”

“Well what’re we gonna do? Call off the wedding obviously, but we’ve prepped so much!”

I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could get more than an “I aca-completely agree wi-” when Aubrey burst through the door. Jesus Mary and Joseph, she really couldn’t have had worse timing!

“Aca-excuse me?! What is going on here?! Do you seriously want to call off my perfectly planned wedding!!!” she shrieked, surely letting the whole wedding party hear our issues.

“Ahhhh!” I screamed at her. “Aubrey! I don’t have time for you to make this all about you! Just because you will never find someone who loves you doesn’t mean that you get to make this all about you!” Her face looked shocked and I stormed out of the restaurant.

I looked out in the horizon and saw the stunning view of the Grand Canyon beneath me. I had always wanted to see the Grand Canyon and had wanted all of my wedding pictures to have the stunning view in the background because I love nature and it was extraordinary that the Earth made this over thousands of years. Amazing. I wanted to get a closer look so I began to walk towards the canyon.

Soon, I heard footsteps following me and I turned to see Beca chasing after me. My stomach fluttered. She ran until she was about 6 feet away from me and we looked in each others’ eyes for what felt like five minutes. I was waiting for her to tell me she loves me but I knew she never would because she loved Theo or that girl she was holding hands with or something. Instead I said “Do you want to walk with me?” She nodded silently and we walked towards the canyon together.

When we finally reached it we stood at the edge overlooking it, staring at it in silence and then she turned to me and leaned in to kiss me. I was so scared that I staggered back and before I knew it I was falling, hitting tree after tree and rock after rock. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was Beca screaming “CHLOE!” and jumping in after me.

Follow me for updates and like if you have an opinion on it. Comment your criticisms and praise. I’m open to anything.

[sofuckingchuffed]

Rhodestead - a fluffy response to Connor leaving, like the two of them personally staying together/moving in/getting married? Thank youuuuuu!

Uhh, so, I guess this is kinda what you asked for? It’s not really fluffy, but it has a happy ending. I hope you like it, and sorry it took me so long to write!

READ ON AO3! (pls leave kudos i live for kudos)

---

Fear swirled in Will’s stomach as he got ready for work. It started as an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach when he first opened his eyes, and by the time he was slinging his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his keys, it had reached a crescendo, pulsating in his hears, rattling inside his ribcage.

But it was Connor who stopped still as they were stepping out into the hall, face twisted with something Will couldn’t quite read.

“Connor?” He asked quietly after a moment, when it didn’t seem like Connor was going to move at all.

“I can’t,” he whispered in response, gaze finally meeting Will’s. His eyes were wide and sad and scared, and all of Will’s own fear disappeared completely in place or concern. “I d- I can’t do it.”

“Can’t do what?” He prompted gently, moving back inside his apartment and closing the door behind him.

“The hospital. I can’t go back there.”

Will frowned, placing his bag on the floor before closing the distance between them, hands on Connor’s shoulders.

“What? What’s going on?”

The fear came back tenfold then, joining the concern, forcing him to take a deep breath. He was sure Connor would have mentioned it if he’d heard something about Tim Burke being out of prison, but that doesn’t stop him wondering if that was what had Connor frozen at the door.

But then Connor sucked in a sharp breath, closing his eyes as he leaned into Will’s touch, and Will was sure there must be something else going on.

“Hey,” he said quietly, rubbing Connor’s back, ducking his head to try and coax something more out of him, to try and find some sort of explanation on his face. “Talk to me.”

Connor shook his head, and when he opened his eyes again, he looked unbearably sad. Will felt a pang in his chest at that look, a look he’d caught fleeting glimpses of over the past few months, but had never really had the opportunity to ask about.

“What’s going on?” Will whispered, cupping Connor’s cheek as he trailed his thumb across his cheekbone.

It felt hypocritical to ask Connor to open up to him when he was keeping something so serious a secret himself, but he’d been so sure that if anyone would have been frozen still, too scared to leave the apartment, it would have been him, not Connor.

“I think I’m losing my mind,” Connor whispered, looking up at the ceiling.

“What?” Will asked with a frown, stepping in a little closer, something protective rising inside him, though he wasn’t sure why.

“I can’t tell what’s real,” he whispered, voice shaking. “What’s fact and what I’ve invented to- to cope. But I can’t go back there. I just can’t. I- I thought I was fine, but I can’t.”

“Okay,” Will said slowly, grip on Connor’s shoulder tightening. “You’re not making sense.”

Connor let out a humourless laugh, shaking his head. “Sorry. Sorry, I didn’t- I shouldn’t be doing this here.”

“Doing what?” Will frowned, the sense that something was very wrong growing.

“This,” Connor gestured loosely at himself, glancing away. “This- this breakdown, or whatever is happening right now.”

“Hey,” Will said softly. “You just lost your dad. I think you’re entitled to take a few days off to grieve.”

Connor hummed non-committally, not looking convinced, and Will couldn’t resist pulling him into a hug. It was like a dam broke the moment Connor was in Will’s arms, and suddenly he was crying, great heaving sobs as he clung to Will. He’d never seen Connor emotional like this, but then, he supposed, for all that they were there for each other, for all they shared, they still kept their emotions locked away, never willing to lose composure in front of anyone, not even each other, not really. It took a moment for the shock to wear off and for Will to hug Connor in earnest, cradling his head, rubbing his back gently as he cried. He wished he could do more than just stand there and wait it out, but he’d had no idea the level of pain Connor was feeling, what he was actually going through. In hindsight, that was stupid. He should have known Connor would take the loss of his father hard, despite their rocky relationship. But he’d seemed to hold it together, to want to keep working, to be, for the most part, as okay as could be expected. So Will hadn’t wanted to push. He’d simply silently been there, and that seemed to be enough. Until now.

Now, Connor was coming undone completely, and Will didn’t know what to do about it. His heart ached for the man in his arms, but he knew he couldn’t fix this. Still, with the thought of Tim Burke in the back of his mind, he figured a day off for both of them couldn’t hurt.

He lead Connor to the lounge once his sobs had died down to the odd hitch in his breath, and pulled him close against his chest, at a loss for words.

“Is it just your dad?” He eventually asked, “Or is there something else you’re not telling me?”

Connor stayed silent for a moment, erratic breaths slowly calming, but eventually he said, “I think Ava killed my dad.”

“Dr. Bekker?” Will asked, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.

“I know. It sounds ridiculous. But someone dosed him with insulin. Nina marked his death as suspicious. And Ava...there’s so much that’s gone on, and I’m not sure which parts I’m imagining and which parts actually happened, but she said...Yesterday, she said now that he was gone, we could be together, and I just…” He let out a shaky sigh, glancing up at Will before continuing. “She once said she would do anything for me. I keep looking at everything she’s done, everything that doesn’t add up, and I can’t help but wonder how far she would go.”

“But murder?” Will asked before he could think better of it.

“I know how it sounds,” Connor snapped, shifting like he was going to get up, but Will pulled him in tight.

“I’m not doubting you,” Will said quickly, giving Connor a small squeeze. “It’s just...a lot.”

“It’s insane,” Connor replied with a small, uncertain shrug. “But that look in her eye when I told her we would never be together...I can’t go back, Will. I just can’t. Even if it wasn’t her. Someone in that hospital purposely gave my father an overdose of insulin. I can’t work somewhere where my colleague killed my father. I just can’t.”

“So let’s leave,” Will said suddenly, sitting up a little straighter, forcing Connor to do the same.

“What?”

“Let’s get out of Chicago. Let’s go to- to Montana, or Arizona. Leave and never come back.”

Connor sat up with a frown, studying Will for a moment. “You’re serious.”

Will nodded in response, feeling an odd rush of excitement mixed with relief. He’d wanted to stay for Connor, couldn’t bear to leave Chicago when things had just started between them, when things finally felt good, felt right, but if Connor didn’t want to work at Med anymore, if he had nothing tying him to Chicago, then what was stopping them leaving together? Will wouldn’t have to be constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for Burke to come and get him, and Connor wouldn’t have to return to the hospital that killed his father, never knowing which of his colleagues actually did it. It suddenly seemed like the perfect solution, only Connor was looking at him like he’d lost his mind.

“Look,” he said slowly, taking both of Connor’s hands in his. “I know we’ve only been seeing each other for a few months, and moving to another city, to another state together, is a huge step, one we likely shouldn’t be taking, but…” he trailed off with a small sigh, some of his assuredness leaving the longer he talked. “I want to be with you. I know that it’s you I want by my side. And it would be so much better if we weren’t constantly wondering, waiting for the other shoe to drop, wondering when—“ Will broke off abruptly, knowing he’d said too much, given too much of his own situation away when concern filled Connor’s eyes.

“Wondering when what?” Connor asked softly, giving Will’s hands a small squeeze.

Will swallowed, glancing away as he weighed his options. He knew if he told Connor about Burke, if he told him what was going on, then Connor would insist he relocate. But he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving and starting over again without Connor. He couldn’t bear the thought of being so isolated and alone. Just the thought had a panic rising in him to match the fear he felt at the thought of what Burke could do.

“Tim Burke’s out of prison,” Will said slowly, glancing up to gauge Connor’s reaction. His eyes narrowed in concern, brow furrowing even as he gave Will’s hands an encouraging squeeze. “Ingrid suggested I relocate, get the hell out of Chicago, but I can’t…” he lowered his gaze, scared of Connor’s reaction. “I can’t leave you.”

Connor was silent for long enough for doubt to pool in Will’s stomach, churning nauseatingly with everything else he was feeling, but eventually, Connor whispered, “Okay.”

Will looked up suddenly, heart skipping a beat as he searched Connor’s face for confirmation. “Really?”

“Yes,” Connor said with a soft laugh, lips quirking up in a smile, even though he still looked sad. “Why didn’t you tell me about Burke?”

“Didn’t wanna worry you,” Will said with a shrug, rubbing his thumb across Connor’s knuckles. “There’s no way I’m leaving you. Not when things are so good. But I couldn’t ask you to drop everything, leave your whole life behind, just for me.”

“I would, you know,” Connor said softly. “I will.”

Will couldn’t fight the smile tugging at his lips as an unexpected warmth filled him up. But it was dulled somewhat by the gravity of what Connor told him, of his suspicions about Ava.

“How long has this thing with Ava been going on?”

“It’s not like that,” Connor said quickly. “We’re not- I’m not- I mean, we did, ages ago, but—“

“No,” Will cut him off quickly. “I’m not asking out of jealousy, I’m...why didn’t you tell me? What’s she been doing?”

“Oh.” Connor frowned, clearly surprised Will was only concerned and not upset or angry. “I guess...I didn’t want to worry you.” He shrugged, offering a sheepish smile. “I was never sure about any of it. I’m still not.”

“I’m here for you,” Will insisted, cupping Connor’s face with both his hands. “No matter what, I’ve got your back.”

“Thank you,” Connor whispered, hands settling on Will’s shoulders.

Will felt a swell of emotion as their lips met, a feeling he couldn’t quite place, something he’d never felt before. His heart felt full, and it felt like something was finally clicking into place, like an empty part of him he hadn’t even been aware of was now filled, and he finally knew what it meant to be whole.

For the first time he could remember, Will didn’t feel embarrassed as hot tears slipped down his cheeks. He only felt joy, and comfort, and the absolute certainty that, no matter what, Connor had his back too.

[letsperaltiago]

bet you wish you could touch our rush (Jake x Amy)

Okay, so nr. 6 (Cop-Con prompt) was the first one to get the most votes, but I’ll try to do the other requests as well! Just have some patience and I’ll get to it eventually! Also I’d thank you all for letting me know you preferences. It was awesome to have so many engage! 

Anyways: Here goes Cop-Con feat. drunk horny Peraltiago! PS I’m sorryyyyy if this sucks. I love an overprotective Jake but also know that realistically he trusts Amy too much to be a jerk about it soooo I tried a middle thing. Also I love for a drunk, stupid happy giggly horny couple. 

Please let me know what you think! 

Word count: 1.8k

Music was blasting from various speakers and drenched the room in a messy cocktail made of incoherent songs - everything from bubbly pop to the heaviest metal - and drunk voices, laughs and slurs. The detectives and officers from the Chicago PD had also had the genius idea to bring coloured lights and even a damn disco ball. This was no longer a boring hotel in Rochester; the entire floor was one big, secret secret party and it ruled.

Jake’s gaze scanned the crowded room holding one beer in hand whilst at least two were already safely stored in his stomach. The buzz had kicked in some time ago but nonetheless he immediately recognised a loud laugh causing him to turn around to see the one and only (and drunk) Amy Santiago perched on a dinner table turned bar. Surrounding her were three men and Jake immediately hoped it was with her and not at her, when they broke into laughter. Amy was a grown woman; the most grown human he knew. He knew she could take care of herself, but Jake also couldn’t help but keep an eye on the four of them - especially now that she’d had God knows how many drinks. Leaving them behind with the benefit of the doubt since he figured that there was no reason to worry, Jake downed the rest of his bear and stumbled off to find Rosa and Charles. If he was lucky they’d still be doing the Taser challenge.

“Wazzup, losers,” he just barely yelled upon finally finding what he’d been looking far: Rosa, Charles, a blonde NYPD beat cop he’d seen around the precinct before and some random guy from who knows where. “Still tasering?”

“Yup,” Rosa responded briefly as always before downing a shot of what appeared to be pure tequila.

“Awesome. I’m in!”

“Great. Got a drink?” Apparently one shot hadn’t been enough and Rosa poured herself another one.

“Uh,” Jake shook his bottle instantly realising that he’d emptied it whilst looking at Amy. “Gimme a minute and I’ll be back with one!” His feet immediately stumbled back to the bar table in the room next door, nonchalantly standing besides a still giggly Amy as he poured himself a cup of whatever alcoholic liquid his hand reached first. She hadn’t noticed and he hadn’t either - until one of the three men’s voice caught his attention.

“Okay, doll… “

Jake’s face immediately twisted into a frown at the disgustingly demeaning condescending though nonetheless he kept pouring. He was not about to meddle and cause a scene like a dick. Though he did pour very slowly, dragging out the amount of time he’d have to stick around and eavesdrop.

“Enough giggling and joking around. Which of the three of us are you going to join in our hotel room?”

Jake Peralta didn’t do jealous, but he did feel anger rising within him as he saw the three men smirk greedily as Amy, obviously more than just tipsy, was a bit taken back and let out a mix between a scoff and a chuckle. “Seriously?”

“Of course. This talking thing can only last so long,” another of the three men added before taking a sip of his beer. Out of the corner of his eye Jake could see his girlfriend, drunk but still her slightly socially awkward self, walking the line between drunk and sober in an attempt to come up with a good answer. A nervous hand running through her black curls sent Jake the signal he’d somewhat waited for; enough was enough.

“Let me in on this, gentlemen?” Jake interrupted the little circle they’d formed around a still sitting Amy. “Consider me an option, doll,” he sent his girlfriend a cocky wink before taking a sip of his drink. He couldn’t help but feel bare for not intervening earlier when he saw her shoulders and eyes drop in relief.

The one who’d started this whole ordeal quickly shot him an unsure elevator look. “Ehm sure, man. But I don’t-“

“You,” Amy smirked widely as she stretched out her arm to point at her boyfriend as to show he was the chosen one. “Show me your hotel room. Pleferlably the inside of it. Splecifically the bed.”

Her horribly mispronounced words were punctuated by her teeth biting into her bottom lip, and if Jake hadn’t felt mildly disgusted with himself for choosing such a disgusting character to help out his girlfriend, he would’ve been so so turned on.

The three men, hell even Jake was taken back by his girlfriend’s boldness, but it immediately made much more sense upon noticing how her eyes had transitioned to a darker shade of brown and how she was holding yet another drink in her hand. 4-drink Amy.

“Oh, I’ll show you more than just the bed,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively before grabbing her hand and pulling her off the table as the three predators walked away with glum expressions. Feeling the need to make sure she was entirely okay, Jake never let go of her hand as he dragged her out into the hallway where the walls between them and the music would allow them to talk.

“I’m sorry about that, Ames. You okay?” He was definitely not sober, but never not sober enough to feel highly alert whenever someone he cared about was in trouble. He wanted to do this right.

Though apparently Amy had other plans in mind. Before he had time to put down his beer, wanting to hold and physically comfort her, she had him pressed up against the wall behind them. Lips that tasted like wine and poison immediately followed behind and pressed themselves against his. His head started spinning when he felt the fake soberness, which he’d forced upon himself to help her, quickly fade away. No way in hell he was sober; he was drunk as hell and so was she. More importantly her body and lips were attached to his and no one else. Instinctively his hand dropped his drink on the hotel carpet, which honestly didn’t matter ‘cause it was super gross since he’d paid more attention to her than the (what seemed to be) vodka and tequila ratio. No matter what it was it had smelled like it was about to knock the life out of every living braincell within him.

“‘ank you for saving me,” she gasped between crashing lips occasionally switching back a forth between his lips and his chin. As if she wasn’t utterly horny and needy for him already, Jake digging his hands beneath her floral shirt to caress her skin had her going insane. God, her skin was always so damn soft.

“Zhey shouldn’t-“ he swallowed a kiss, “have said that to you. I don’t want stupid boys to want you like that. Only super nize boys.” Wild hands ran through his messed up curls, occasionally getting caught up in them and tugging. Her chest was heaving and pressed up against his like for dear life. The sound of her breathing through her nose like a wild starving animal was insane. Anything she did drove him insane.

“You’re a nize boy,” she momentarily slipped away from his lips to whisper into his ear followed by  her teeth lazily tugging on the soft lobe. Jake felt himself fall apart. ”Take me to your wroom.”

“Therz a party in our rome, babe,” he felt himself struggle to keep up with both the English language and the kissing as he tried to paint the picture of their situation for her.

“I don’t care,” she’d managed to fumble the upper part of his shirt open, her hot breath and soft lips against his sternum making him shiver. “I’m sure therz no one in the bed. Or the closet. Either is frine.”

“Oh God,” Jake looked up towards the ceiling in pure desperation which caused the back of his head to bump into the wall. “Ames, you’re deathing me.”

“Please,” she separated from his chest only to grab his chin and pull it downards to look right into her almost black eyes. “I need you. Now. Wherever.”

If Jake wasn’t already turned on and probably also stone hard then he definitely was now. His girlfriend - his smart, beautiful, perfect girlfriend - was basically begging on her knees. Yet there was no way he’d allow them, no matter how drunk, to have sex directly in front of other people. They’d tried a fair share of things, but there was a limit to everything - even kinky sex. “We can’t in front of like… people.”

Amy didn’t even try to hide her disappointment at this. “But like… We’re peoples. You’re peoples and I’m peoples and we're always there whenever we boink.” Her whine somehow reminded him of a kid’s which amused him until he realised there was nothing funny about them not being able to have sex.

“Baby, that’s different.” He leaned down to continue his drunk slurring against her lips. “We’re not like other peoples. We can boink with each other in the room.”

“Can’t they just leave uz alone then? Go away,” this time it was her turn to slur against his lips as her hands slowly snaked their way beneath the bottom of his shirt and onto his bare skin.

Jake, speechless and suddenly realising how hopeless they both were, cupped her face in his hands and started laughing with his lips still pressed to hers. Everything; the whole day and evening; the alcohol; his love for her… It came crashing down on him all at once.

“Babe, we so drunk,” he smiled into the kiss, squeezing her waist as he did a 180 and pushed her against the wall he himself had just been caught against. He didn’t have to look to know that she was smiling too while running the palms of her hands up and down his lower back.

“I know,” she chuckled. “What are we going to do?” She somehow deepened the kiss.”I wunna boink…”

“Uhummm…” he couldn’t even make out proper words anymore. Amy Santiago had him at the gates of heaven and he needed to find a damn key. Fast.

Then an idea hit him like lightning meaning that he to both of their dismay pulled back. “Store room!”

His idea was immediately met by a frown. “What store? There’s no store here.”

“Storing room!” He tried again, slowly feeling the right expression sneaking up on him. He would probably get it right sooner or later, but didn’t have to wait much longer. Amy, as most of the time anyways, beat him to it.

“Room for storage! Storage room!”

“Yes!” He exclaimed like a kid getting what he wanted the most for Christmas. There was the urge to kiss her again and so he did. “You’re so smort, baby.” He cooed suddenly feeling her hands pushing onto his chest and off of her. Apart from her hazy, drunk eyes she looked stern and determined as ever.

“Shut up, Pearralta. We have a storable closet to find.”

[canaryatlaw]

alright, well today has certainly been interesting. my alarm went off bright and early at 7:30, and though I was tired of course the adrenaline for today’s events kicked in pretty quickly and I was off getting ready. I did my makeup to make sure it was impeccable (and it did turn out really nice) and got my freshly dry cleaned suit on with all its buttons and such. Spent about ten minutes eating breakfast before getting an uber to the juvenile courthouse. I was still feeling kind of tired so I decided it would be a good time to use a piece of my caffeine gum, which starts as like a hard tablet thing then turns into gum as you chew it (kinda like a gumball). So I’m chewing it and I’m like wtf there’s like something hard in the gum??? so I pulled it out and oh, that’s definitely a piece of tooth. great. I have about a billion fillings so I figured it had to be one of those, so the first place i checked was the last one that had gotten done that wasn’t all that stable but it was fine, and it ended up being the last tooth on the top left side of my mouth. Well, not much I can do about it at the moment. I got dropped off at the courthouse around 9:15 and just decided to wait around for a few minutes since it wasn’t terribly cold out rather than find another place to stake out for a bit. so I called my dentist’s office and told them what happened, and they said I could come in today at 11:30 or 2:30, I wasn’t sure I’d make it back from the interview for the 11:30 so we decided on the 2:30. I waited a couple more minutes before going inside and going through security, I swear it was the same sheriff that manned that security check point my first summer there that was so much better than the other ones, but after that first summer I moved and my public transit was closer to the other entrance. but they let me through easily, even though I definitely did set off the metal detector 😂story of my life. so I went up to the 4th floor where their office is and ran to the bathroom by the elevators right outside their actual office to make sure everything was good and kill a few more minutes so I wasn’t too obscenely early. Once I figured it would be a decent time to go in I headed in, the email instruction had said to you know let the receptionist know your name and that you’re here for an interview, except I knew the receptionist, so I didn’t have to do any of that lol. They gave me a standard employment application to fill out (which I’ve filled out for them before) which stated you didn’t have to rewrite any info that was on your resume, you could just write see resume, so that’s a lot less annoying, and to email a reference list in afterwards. So I finished that and gave it back, then a few minutes later the woman I’ve been communicating via email with, who I also know, came and got me to take me back to the conference room, which is in the back of the office, so while we were walking there she was like oh I love your suit that’s so cool, is it custom?? so that was cool to hear, I said it was and that a former employer had decided to get it for all of us and she was like awesome, my husband has a custom suit he loves lol. Once we reached the conference room she walked me in and, unsurprisingly, I knew the two people on the other side of the table that would be interviewing me (so just to keep track, I’ve officially known every person I’ve encountered in the office). One of them was actually in my first interview for being a law clerk way back in 2016 and then she ran the training so I knew her quite well, the other guy I didn’t know that well but I was familiar with him and he said he remembered me so that was a good sign. So they asked me about what my experience working with the office had been so I talked about the unfounded reports and the child death case and the permanency hearings and the interviews ranging between a 4 year old who’s been in her foster home for 3 days and is already calling her foster mother “mom” and wants to stay with her forever, to a 16 year old boy involuntarily in a psych ward which he would be stuck in way past the point of medical necessity (like, two months past when he was cleared after 6 days there) to the point where we had to get a court order for DCFS to place him somewhere else- so really running the gamut of different experiences here. So I talked about some of my other legal experiences like working for my dad (which is always a good one to use because I can bs it pretty freely to fit whatever I need it to be) and at the DV clinic and how I handled dealing with judges and clients and all that good stuff. They asked some question about the majority of the population they serve being African American and why I thought that was, so I said that of course the fact that 95% of parents qualify for a public defender means that the vast majority of them are living in poverty (and sadly a lot of people living in poverty in Chicago are African American), and while poverty itself is not child neglect it makes it a lot more difficult when you have to choose between going to work to feed your family and leaving your 8 and 10 year olds home alone which is child neglect, or not being able to afford a bed for your child, which is child neglect. And of course that while child abuse takes place across all socioeconomic levels, those in poverty are often in positions where their actions could be reported to DCFS a lot easier whereas someone with some social standing would probably be given the benefit of the doubt by not reporting when they see what could be evidence of abuse/neglect. There were a few other questions about using common sense and if I could give an example of how I thought that played into the job, so I talked about how when I was reviewing unfounded reports there was one against a daycare owner that had originally been indicated but was unfounded on appeal because the supposed act of abuse had been fairly minor, but the fact that the owner would treat a small child like that to begin with coupled with the fact that she lied to the parents and lied to the investigators and completely refused to cooperate were all big flags for me that this is not someone who should be entrusted with young children when they are capable of such actions, and how I took steps to ensure something was done about the situation. They wanted to know more about the child death motion so I talked about that and how I had researched it and the ultimate conclusion the judge reached that while he did not grant the motion, we were successful in convincing him he had the power to do what we were requesting, it was just the facts that he found unconvincing which of course we don’t have any control over, so I was still pleased with the outcome. And yeah, lots of questions about handling a high case load and all that good stuff, they had said since they lost a lot of staff they were down to like 3-4 attorneys per courtroom when it used to be more like 5-6 so caseloads had been rising again and that I’d have to be prepared for that. I asked them if they had a timetable as for when they would be making hiring decisions, but they were like oh yeah we have no idea, so still don’t know what to do with that other than wait I guess. So yeah, overall I think it went pretty well, I was confident in pretty much all of my answers and I think my passion for the work really followed through. So when we finished I headed out, it was like 10:40 at this point so I called the dentist office back and asked if the 11:30 was still available and they said it was, so I got an uber pool and rode it downtown to where my dentist is located. So he checked it out and got his little camera pen thing in there so I could see, basically a fairly large part of the tooth/filling had come off revealing the silver filling beneath it, which means it wasn’t a filling that we’ve done over the past 3 years I’ve been here with this dentist, but was something my New York dentist had done. The dentist said it was stable for now though, so we made an appointment for next week to put a crown on it. I took the brown line to the bus and then home which was fairly easy. After changing out of the suit I made some lunch and tried to relax for a bit, watched some Reign and made sure I sent the reference list over. I also started picking at my gel nail polish because once you start doing that it’s really hard to stop, so my nails were not in good shape by the end of the day, but that was okay because once Jess got home we met up at the nail place we’ve been going to and got manicures, and then walked over to main street and got dinner and then ice cream because ice cream is always needed for birthday celebrations, even if it’s slightly delayed. Headed home after that and looked at stuff on my phone for a while trying to figure out what I want to do tomorrow. I’m supposed to (and by that I mean I responded yes on facebook) to this event with Illinois prosecutors and government attorneys where there are a bunch of different government agencies attending and will be possible networking attorneys. And of course part of me is like just suck it up and go it could be helpful, but another part of me knows I’m really not interested in any of the options listed, I don’t want to end up in some random government office, and I highly doubt I could get hired by the SA’s office given my dearth of experience with criminal law in the actual courtroom. The one thing that might’ve been slightly interesting was the office of the inspector general, which I would be interested in as they have a division that works inside DCFS that I would love to work for, but those that are attending are apparently from the office of the executive inspector general, which just means they oversee state operations and such and basically has no connection to the DCFS branch. and I mean, what am I gonna do, hand them my resume and ask them to give it to someone at a totally different office? they’re obviously not going to do that, so at this point I’m seriously doubting going, I really just don’t think there would be anything worth going for, but I guess we’ll see. And yeah, after that I showered and got ready for bed and now I am here and I am definitely ready to pass out, so I will end this here. Goodnight darlings. Congrats on being halfway through the week.

[megamanx1994]

Rise of Smithy Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Go, go Axem Rangers! (Disclaimer!) Asia was watching the body being put together with Labranyum. “I can read him,” said Asia, “It feels like he’s dreaming. “No so much dreaming,” said Smithy, “But soon he will have my memories and thoughts.” As Smithy was explaining everything, Asia came closer to the body. She touched the cradle and then had a vision. The world was being destroyed and humans were turned into robots or weapons of destruction. She screamed and Jet comforted her. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “I saw terrible things,” said Asia. She then looked at Smithy with fright in her eyes. “Why?” she asked. “Why what?” asked Smithy. “You said we were gonna make a better world,” said Asia. “Trust me it will be a better world,” said Smithy. “When you destroy all humans?” asked Asia. “That’s not exactly…. Humans have every opportunity to evolve, but they don’t take it because of fear,” said Smithy, “They’re scared of change.” “So you believe this will show them not to be scared?” asked Jet. “I don’t suppose you see any option,” said Smithy. He pressed a button and 5 robots with different blades were released. They were all based off Smithy’s information about Xenoblade.“Your time has come my creations,” said Smithy, “Go have some fun.” A scientist entered and the red one killed him. Jet grabbed Asia and ran. “No wait!” Smithy exclaimed before he stopped himself. He then looked at the cradle. “They’ll understand once they see what I’ve created,” said Smithy, “I just need more time.”   We were explaining to Captain N our plan to stop Smithy. “That’s our plan,” I said, “But the only thing I don’t know is how to pull it off.” “Well you’ll find a way,” said Captain N, “You may think you don’t have much, but you have each other, your wit, and your will to save the world.” We were all listening. “Smithy claims he wants to save the world, but whether he believes it or not, his true plan is to destroy it,” said Captain N, “But he wants something more.” “To be better,” answered Colleen, “Better than us.” “To evolve,” said Elma. “Well we won’t let that happen,” I said. There was a knock on the door. “I’ll get it,” said Steven. He answered the door and screamed. “What is it?” I asked. It was the twins. Steven and Chun Li got into a fighting stance. “We’re not here to fight,” said Jet. “We need a place to stay,” said Asia. “I’m very tempted not to give you one,” I said. Michael stopped me. “We can trust them,” he said, “I don’t know how but they’re gonna help us in the future.” “How do you know that?” asked Chun-Li. “This may seem impossible to believe, but I can see in the future,” he said. “Its true,” said Anela, “Its thanks to his visions that we got to where we are today.” “We came here to tell you about what Smithy’s plans are,” said Jet. He showed us a photo of the cradle and a body made entirely out of labranyum. “Is that a gem?” asked Steven. “It was located inside the scepter,” said Asia, “It was the power source that gave us our powers.” “So that explains why Smithy took the scepter,” I said. “If it pleases you, we’d like to help you stop Smithy,” said Jet, “Its what our parents would’ve wanted.” “Then you’re like me,” I said, “You’ve lost family.” “You could say that,” Asia answered. Chun-Li was still injured from a fight. “Smithy sure packs a wallop,” said Chun-Li. “I can help with that,” said Asia. She used her neon ability to heal her wounds. “Whoa,” said Chun-Li it doesn’t hurt anymore.” “Then its settled,” I said, “Tomorrow we head out to find Smithy.” “You know, if Teen Titans Go actually had story and villains like Smithy, then it would be a popular show,” Michael said, “But nooooooo. You think the president of Cartoon Network would throw us a bone, but they keep showing that shitty ass garbage shit show every day, multiple times a day.” “Agreed,” said Steven Universe, “If this were a show it’d be way better than Teen Titans Go.” “He sees my point,” Michael said, “The original Titans have something that Teen Titans Go will never have; Story, character development, and..... story.” “You said story twice,” said Anela. “That’s because it has twice as much story as character development,” Michael said, “Whereas the new show only has lousy acting, lazy animation and toilet humor, not to mention they turned our favorite heroes into bumbling retards.”

 He looked at the 4th wall. “You hear that Cartoon Network?” he said breaking the 4th wall, “You show sucks, SO STOP SHOWING IT!!!!!” “So what’s your story?” asked Jet. “I beg your pardon?” I asked. “What made you the man you are today?” asked Asia, “We’re curious.” I started explaining how I became Power Man/Megaman X. “Whatever that cerium did to me, made my body totally indestructible,” I said, “Cross is the same way only he can heal body parts in a split second.” “Wow,” said Jet. “I was enhanced by a cerium that turned me into a super soldier with enhanced endurance, speed, and strength, and I can conjure fire,” said Colleen, “Probably a side effect.” “All my powers come from a gem,” said Steven, “And another teammate uses a magic wand.” “I just decided to become a cop,” said Chun-Li. “Come on Chun-Li,” said Elma, “Tell them the truth.” Chun-Li sighed. “My father was murdered by a man named M. Bison, and I swore to avenge him which is why I took on Kung Fu,” said Chun-Li, “But then I learned vengeance wasn’t the answer.” “Well we were almost consumed by it, but it’s a good thing we didn’t let it take us,” said Jet. Billy climbd up a tree and fell asleep. “Sooooooooooooo about this show ‘Silly Moments with Daisy’,” asked Jet. “Yeah?” I asked. “There was one episode where she had the younger Toph Beifong on the show,” said Asia, “How did she manage to get her on that episode.” “Trust me on this one; you don’t wanna know,” Chun-Li said. She then turned to me. “Nicholas, don’t tell them,” she said, “You shouldn’t have told me but you did, and now I’m telling you, you don’t wanna know.” The next morning I was asleep and fell off the bed. “Ow,” I said. I looked out the window and saw Chun-Li playing with Mel and Ken. “To be young again,” I said smiling. Steven barged through the door. “Nichoals you gotta see this!!!!!” he shouted before realizing he just barged it, “Oh… sorry.” He stepped out then knocked. I let him in. “Nicholas you gotta see this!” he said. “What is it?” I asked. He turned the TV on. Some robots in clad colors were wreaking havoc in Chicago. They were controlled by Smithy. “He’s back,” I said, “We have to stop him.” I called Luna. “Luna is the Mark XI ready for deployment?” I asked. “Already on its way,” she said. “Good, cause I’m gonna need it,” I said. A capsule landed near my location and I went to it. It was armor similar to my X armor but with streaks of white and gold. I started to put it on. “Don’t think you’re the only one with an upgrade Nicholas,” said Michael. Xenoblade’s P.O.V I came out with some new armor. “And check this out,” I said. I pressed a button and I was invisible. “Whoa,” said Steven. “That’s right,” I said, “I pictured if Smithy was gonna evolve we might as well too.” “Good thinking,” said Nicholas, “You have quite the brain for new ideas Michael. It keeps reminding me why we became friends in the first place.” We all got into the jet. Anela was looking at a screen. “It looks like Smithy is inside some kind of truck,” said Anela. “I could fire at the truck to keep it from getting away,” said Elma. “Negative,” said Colleen, “If the car crashes then that gem could level the entire city. I think we should distract him.” “That’s gonna be a problem because of those 5 guys,” said Steven. “Well some of us can take care of those goons while the rest of you deal with Smithy,” said Billy. “Can I just say one thing?” asked Chun-Li, “MISSILE!!!!!” A missile was shot at us and we were falling down into the city. Nicholas took the wheel and got us all to safety. “Looks like they knew we were coming,” he said. “Aren’t you the clever one,” said the red robot. “Who the hell are you?” asked Chun-Li. “We fight for evil,” said the red robot. “We live for disorder,” said the black robot. “We struggle for chaos,” said the pink robot. “We like what we do,” said the green robot. “We are…” said the yellow robot. “The Axem Rangers!” “So you’re servants under Smithy’s boot,” said Colleen. “Isn’t it lovely?” Asked Axem Pink, “The humans cowering in fear.” “What’s happening right now is only an interlude, and an amusement,” said Axem Black, “Maybe amusement isn’t the right word….. more like a satisfaction, cleaning Earth of those who want to tear it down or keep it the same.” “Evolution is the true cure for this world,” said Axem Red, “And we were born to assist Smithy in it.” “Its not satisfaction if you’re destroying God’s people,” I said. “I think you’re the one responsible for that, trying to creating an invention that helps people, but instead you made something that would bring them all to an end,” said Axem Red looking at me, “And it’s a good thing you’re here because you get to watch as everyone around you gets killed.” I started to get angry. “I could kill you right now but where’s the fun in that?” asked Axem Red, “I’d much rather see the look on your face, quivering in fear as everyone you care about gets destroyed, as you scream in agony and….” I threw my monado at him like a boomerang and it came back at me. “That’s enough out of you, you metallic freakshow!” I said, “Enough of your talk, enough of the pain. The only agony would be suffering you any longer.” I got into a fighting stance. Colleen saw Smithy’s truck. “You go,” said Nicholas, “We’ll take care of these goons.” “The red one is mine,” I said. We started fighting them while Colleen grabbed a motorcycle and chased after Smithy. Elma got out her twin pistols and started firing at Axem Black. He used his ax to chop the bullets in half. “Shit he’s fast,” said Cross. “Team move?” Asked Elma. “Team move,” answered Cross. He picked Elma up and they flew up to the sky. “Now!” said Elma. They spun around while Elma fired multiple bullets. Nicholas was fighting Axem Green. They clashed with their blade and ax. “Try this one for size,” said Axem Green. He did a magic move sending dozens of shooting stars at him. Nicholas used a shield to block them all. “Steven, give me a hand?” he asked. “Got it!” said Steven. He summoned a shield and started fighting with him. Colleen jumped on the truck Smithy was on. “Insect!” he said as he got up, “You will not stop the evolution.” He tried firing at Colleen but she was quick. “Well he’s definitely unhappy,” she said. Anela was following them on the jet. “You wanna know what’s in that cradle?” asked Smithy, “Evolution, but why does that terrify you?” “You and I see evolution differently,” said Colleen. She summoned her energy riot shield and started fighting him. The flames inside her started heating up. “Alright Chun-Li we got a window!” said Anela. Chun-Li got on a motorcycle and started following them. I was fighting Axem Red. “I thought taking you down would be hard,” he said, “But I kinda like it!” Axem Yellow and Pink joined the fight. “You really think you’re a match for us?” he asked, “Well let’s see if you’re a match for this!” He threw his ax at a train track and the train started to fall down. “Shit!” I said. I jumped to it and used my digital headband to make a hand to stop the fall. A carier truck was on the other side. “Hold on Xenoblade!” said the driver, “I’ll bring the car right under there!”  Axem Red was coming at me. “If you can’t stop what you’ve created, then maybe you’re not the hero everyone thinks you are,” said Axem Pink. She attacked me and I almost lost my concentration. The children in the train were scared and screaming. “I can’t let it fall,” I said, “I won’t let it!” “Oh yes you will,” said Axem Yellow. He hit me with a hard punch. The train started to fall again but I caught it in time. Axem Yellow and pink continued to beat on me. Cross and Elma were having a hard time with Axem Black. Elma was held down by Smithy drones. Axem black grabbed Cross by the wings and spun him around. “Cross!” said Elma. One of the drones kneed her in the gut. He then started to rip the wings off while keeping Cross pinned. “Time to ground this bird,” he said, “And then I’ll make you watch as I kill your pretty friend.” One of the drones had a blade near Elma. “Over my dead body!” said Cross. He ignited his photon saber and cut Axem Black’s right hand off. They were fighting and Axem Black still used his left hand to carry his ax. “Alright,” said Cross, “Try this on for size!” He did his signature photon saber move, the Starlight Duster cutting him to pieces. “Wings might need to heal for a bit,” he said. Cross then attacked the Smithy drones and saved Elma. “Now we’re even,” said Cross as he smiled. Elma hugged him. “Thank God you’re ok,” said Elma. People saw me taking a beating from the Axem Rangers. My concentration was starting to break. “Its time to die!” said Axem Red. He came charging at me but someone threw an object at him. “Up here tough guy, come and get a piece of us!” said someone. “We ought to kick your fuckin’ ass!” said somebody else. One of the students was Chuck Quark from school. “Leave Xenoblade alone!” he said, “You gonna pick on a guy trying to save a bunch of kids?!” “I got somethin’ for your ass!” shouted another student as he threw a crowbar at Axem Pink, “You mess with Xenoblade you mess with the Xeno Crew!” “You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us!” said Quark. Jet and Asia came to help me out. Jet ran in and out of the train getting the kids out while Asia helped me balance the train. I managed to get the  remaining kids to safety. People kept throwing objects at the Axem Rangers. “Enough,” said Axem Red, “Enough!” Someone threw one more object at him. “I said ENOUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!” he said. He slammed his ax on the ground causing a groundshake. He then turned to me. “You’re all gonna watch as your precious hero dies before your eyes,” said Axem Red, “Then its your turn!” He got out his ax and stabbed me with it. Or…… so he thought. (To the 4th wall) People really need to do their research. I turned back to Axem Red. “Smithy studied me well,” I said, “But he hasn’t learned everything!” I pushed him off, and the others joined me. “Axem Black wasn’t that much of a match for us,” said Cross. “You may have taken down one of our brethren, but we can still take on 7 of you!” said Axem Red. We all got into a fighting stance. “How about 12 of us!” shouted someone. I looked up to the sky and saw the other members of the Xenoforce. “It can’t be!” said Steven smiling. “Cool!” said Cross. “Oh yes it can,” said Nicholas. My teammates jumped down. “Anela called and thought you could use some help,” said Micah. “Well what are you waiting for?” I asked, “Join in and help!” They all morphed into their xeno costumes. The Peacekeepers and the Xenoforce together against the forces of evil. (To the 4th wall) I’d like to see Teen Titans Go’s shitty movie compete with this! Ya hear that CN?! We’re better than Teen Titans Go!

(I’ve got no regrets trash talking that garbage reboot! Fuck you CN! :P)