#they have the same facial markings bads r just hard to see

[foolsocracy]

SILLIES

[levi-ships-eruri]

Levi Ackerman NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Levi is a cleanliness freak and after a few moments of holding you and making sure that you are okay, he would get up and change the sheets. Means, you have to get up, too. And while you are up, you should go and take a shower. He will join you there and MAYBE this will lead to a second round. However, he will definitely make sure you are alright, clean, and safe. And tbh, there is no better feeling than going back to bed with Levi and cuddle into the fresh sheets.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Levi is quite confident about his body despite his height. On himself, he especially likes his hands and his long, slender, and calloused fingers. They are quite aestethic and he knows how to use them on you, reaching places inside you that your own fingers cannot reach. However, these hands are also shed in blood. Therefore he loves to see that his hands can also be soft and caring on your body, and bring pleasure instead of death.

On you, Levi is definitely an ass and thigh kind of guy. But his favourite body part of you is your face: eyes, lips, nose, jawline... He loves when you glance over to him from the other side of the room, a little smile on your lips. He loves the blush tinting your cheeks. He loves the soft look in your eyes when you tell him that you love him. He loves to see you let loose when you come on him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Levi HATES to make a mess. So when he comes, he comes inside of you. He also thinks this is quite intimate and therefore likes it (plus, secretly thinking he is marking you. Boy sometimes is insecure). When it comes to oral, he wouldn’t force you to swallow. If you wanna spit it out, he would hand you a tissue. Same if something drips out of your mouth because sometimes he comes A LOT.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Levi is pretty vocal about sex and wouldn’t hide something from you, not even the awkward first-time-stories. But there is one thing he is shy talking about... he is not one to share his partner. EXCEPT for the two persons he trusts the most: Hanji and Erwin. Levi caught himself thinking about a threesome with his partner and one of them (or...a foursome...no too much trouble), but he would not dare to bring it up. He would be super embarassed if Erwin turned down the idea and he wouldn’t want Hanji to tell everybody or to brag about it (they would do this, let’s be honest).

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Levi is over 30 years old, so he had gathered some experience. He started in the underworld, not necessarily because of need, but because he thinks it is something he is...supposed to do? Something that was normal for people to do? Later he also had sex when he needed to release some anger, and only later started to really enjoy it and to think about what techniques would please his partner. So, when the two of you start having sex, this guy knows what he does and is willing to learn everything about you and your preferations.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy: He loves to push you down, a hand between your shoulders, your ass up in the air, pounding into you.

Missonary: Levi is a broken man and he loves to hold you close to him and bury his face into the crock of your neck.

Sitting: Both of you sitting, your legs wrapped around him, bodies closely pressed together, hand and lips everywhere they can reach. It is the most intimate position for the really emotional times.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

Levi is pretty serious in the bedroom, but he will make cocky remarks and smile a lot (sometimes also cocky, sometimes soft). Sometimes you will break out laughing because he cannot shut his shitmouth and will say something downright ridiculous.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

His hair down there is dark as well and neatly groomed, maybe even completely shaved. He is aware that bodyhair does not have anything to do with bad hygene, but he just feels better shaved or groomed. Levi’s body hair (and facial hair) also takes a lot of time to grow due to his time in the underground, but in this case it is rather beneficial for him.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Levi is super intimate. Not necessarily overly romantic, but intimate. This is something between you and him, something special. So unless it is a quicky during stressful times, he will take his time and make sure that both of you feel good and loved. Often having sex with him is the closest you ever feel to him because Levi can show his affection better by acts than by words. Afterwards you sometimes have the deepest conversations.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Levi’s sex drive is not the highest and he has no problem with not jerking off for a while. When he feels the need to do it, he will do it during his super effective shower sessions because this way it wouldn’t make a mess. 

However, when he is in a relationship, his longing gets stronger. If he cannot see you for some time or if the two of you just cannot find any time for the do, he will have a frustrating jack-off session, which only causes his need for you to grow.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Captain Kink: Levi likes to take the dominant part. He likes to hear you call him Heichou in bed, but not too often (he loves his name from your lips even more).

Bondage: Levi loves to tie you up and make you squirm beneath him. Orgasm denial is not a real kink of him, BUT he will do it all the time when you are tied up. When he gives you oral in this state, you can be sure it will take at least AN HOUR before he lets you cum.

Stockings: Since he is a leg guy, he enjoys seeing you wearing stockings. And he wouldn’t admit, but seeing you taking on your boots and gear the next morning is a huge turn on for him. He cannot wait to take them off again in th evening.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His bed or the floor of his room, where he has control over the mess the two of you make.

His desk. It will make much more of a mess and will make a chaos out of his paperwork, but he is a sucker for the view of you sprawled out on his desk.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Levi is actually pretty hard to seduce, which makes flirting with him really hard. He notices the flirting, of course, but is good at ignoring it. As already mentioned, he gets pretty turned on when you get dressed into your boots and gear.

Whenyou spend the day apart from eachother,  glancing at each other from a distance, waiting for the night to finally come.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degrading: Apart from public belief, Levi would NEVER degrade you because he hates being degraded so much. His whole life has been a pain so far, so why should he take this into the bedroom, where he just wants to show his partner his love?

He would also not hurt you. Maybe a few spanks or some very light choking and hair pulling, but he would never ever hurt you in any way. Same reason as above.

Don’t. Call. Him. Daddy. He thinks this is super weird. Just stay with his name or Heichou/Captain.

Anything including piss or feces. Just no.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Levi highly enjoys receiving oral, especially when he is sitting and you on your knees in fron of him. When you blow him, he will finally let loose and you can see his face slightly being tinted red, eyes closed, lips a little apart. His hand will be in your hair all the time and towards the end he cannot hold back and will thrust into your mouth once or twice. His low grunts get a little more high pitched when you run your tongue around his tip.

But Levi is also pretty talented in giving. As mentioned before, he likes to tease you with his mouth, loving the feeling of you squirming beneath him. Be prepared for a lot of edging, cause that little gremlin is a sucker for your desperate moans.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Levi is a little more on the rougher side. His thrusts are deep and strong, his pace rather “average” at the start, but he gets faster in the course of the act. If the two of you have some time, he will vary his rhythm, from slow and sensual to fast and strong, and back again. Quickies will be, as the name suggest, as quick as possible.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Oh, talking about quickies: If you are in a relationship with Levi or anything like this, quickies will happen very often. He is a busy man und you most likely will also be part of the survey corps, so you need to use every little space of time you can get. This often results in steamy sessions in the forest against a tree, or a more private session in his office.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

So, semi public sex, like in the forest, is a thing. But he would always make sure to not get caught, especially not by some cadets.

Apart from that, he is pretty open in bed. Tell him what you would like to try and he will most likely agree, as long as it is nothing from his no go list. If he picks up something new (thanks to Hanji most probably) he will also not shy away from bringing it up and ask you about it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Oh boi, we are talking about Levi. When the two of you have a whole night, you have to be the one to stop him at some point - for your own sake. Levi can go for several rounds, even the whole night and this can easily be too much for someone without special power.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

So let’s imagine a more modern setting, because I think there are no sex toys in our common sense on Paradise Island. In a modern world, Levi would definitely get and try out some sex toys, especially vibrators which he could use on his partner. He would also be a little curious to try them out on himself, but he rather uses them for teasing you. He would have like 2 or 3 items, not too much, not too fancy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Ohhh, be prepared for a lot of teasing. Levi enjoys to have a little power over you and your pleasure, and he will make use of it. He is especially unfair when it comes to oral, holding your hips in place while he is taking is sweet time to pleasure you. It drives you mad and this man has a lot of patience.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Levi is not really loud, but his soft little grunts and moans are like music. He only gets a little louder when you tease him while giving him head, but he will also scold you for it. That shitmouth. Otherwise, you will hear him whisper “fuck” and “shit” while he is pounding into you and coming close to his climax.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Levi is quite curious when it comes to new techniques. Soon after joining the squad, he  discovers that Hanji has quite an interesting collection of books with...a lot of explanations and images. So one day, he asks them to borrow some of these books to study them. But before, he threatens Hanji with death if they tell anyone.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Have you seen Levi’s season 4 arts? This man is packed, damn. Errected I would say he is between 7′0 and 8′0. So Levi’s dick is pretty average in girth, but long. He knows how to use it as good as he uses his swords.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Levi’s sex drive is pretty low, since he is not a horny teen anymore. Of course, he feels the need from time to time, but he can pretty good control himself. When he is in a relationship, however, his sex drive will grow a lot, since it is one of the ways of showing you how much he loves you. If the two of you have time, you will easily have sex 3 or 4 times a week.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Levi only sleeps 3 hours per night, and this will not change after sex. He often holds you until you are asleep and gets up afterwards, to either sleep at his desk or do some paperworks. He will, however, make sure to be back in bed when you wake up.

[samanthadalton]

So we meet again part 3 (finale)

pairings: Poppy x Bea

the last part of the series! hope you guys enjoy this❤️(also i marked parts as flashbacks in case it gets confusing, also i didnt read over it thoroughly so i apologise for any mistakes) 

NSFW, bit of swearing 

taglist: @cloud9in @somewillwin @alleycat97 @baexpoppy @save-me-the-last-dance @helpconfusedpersonhere @dopeyouth @iamsimpforpoppy @alexlabhont @thedaft1 @veenast @cloakanddaggerthings @crazzyplays 

wordcount: 3.5k (a nice long ending ig) 

part 1 and part 2 is available in case you need a refresher Part 1 Part 2

*Flashback* 

After the Christmas Party, the lines between Poppy’s rules had been beginning to blur, with the two women meeting up more often and Poppy would even sneak over to Bea’s dorm, granted if Zoey wasn’t there. Poppy would let Bea stay for cuddling, for they would skip sex and go straight to just holding each other in either comfortable silence or talk about anything and everything.  

“So where’s new money?” Poppy takes the hood of her coat, as she enters the dorm, conspicuously glancing around the apartment. 

“She’s gone to LA for a bit to be with her mom. Come let’s go to my room.” Bea nods towards the strawberry blonde, and Poppy saunters past her, already on her way to the room. Bea follows, a wolfish grin on her face as she pushes Poppy against her bedroom door, placing her lips against hers, for a long kiss. 

“Eager are we Farmsville?” Poppy breaks the kiss, her eyes burning into Bea’s, her eyes gleaming with amusement. Bea answers with a kiss, her fingers gripping at Poppy’s sides, as her eyes burn with desire. Bea leads her to the bed, pushing the strawberry blonde onto the bed before covering her body with hers, already locked in a passionate embrace.

“Bea…” Poppy moans out, as Bea scrapes her teeth against her neck, before softly biting down. Bea smiles against her neck, kissing up to her jaw, her eyes meet Poppy’s, full of admiration. She leans down, nipping at Poppy’s lips as her hands find her way under her clothes, stroking the junctures of her hips eliciting goosebumps. She makes quick word of stripping Poppy of her clothes, before taking off her own, wildly throwing them around the bedroom as she kisses Poppy with great intensity. Bea presses her knee between Poppy’s legs, as Poppy slowly rocks her hips against it, deepening the friction. “God!” Poppy screams out, as Bea begins alternating between kissing and biting as she moves down her body, until her head lies between the strawberry blonde’s legs. 

Bea slowly rubs Poppy’s thighs, slowly pulling them apart as she gives a teasing lick to her inner thigh, evoking a sharp intake of breath from Poppy. “Do you like that?” Poppy violently nods her head, her fingers intertwining in Bea’s hair, pulling her head closer. Bea begins sucking lightly at Poppy’s button, her fingers teasing Poppy’s entrance before dipping inside, pumping in and out. Poppy’s toes curl as she lets out a loud moan, her head thrown back. 

The room is quiet, excluding the heavy panting of the two women, as Bea moves up onto the bed, her arm snaking around Poppy’s waist, pulling her closer. Poppy subconsciously begins drawing lazy shapes against Bea’s stomach, lost in thought. 

“You okay?”

“Hmm?” 

“Are you okay?” 

Poppy shudders, moving closer to Bea, “just a little cold.” 

“I can fix that,” Bea shuffles off her bed, moving towards her closet before pulling a hoodie off a hanger before throwing it at the strawberry blonde, “here.” 

“I’m not wearing that.” 

“Fine stay cold.” Bea nonchalantly shrugs before getting back into the bed. 

Poppy stares at the hoodie, contemplative for a few moments, before sighing heavily, before sliding off the bed, putting the hoodie on. She pulls down at the hem slightly, the size of the hoodie making her seem smaller than usual. 

Bea’s eyes languidly roams Poppy’s body, “see, fit for a queen.” 

*Present* 

Over the next couple of months, Bea and Poppy had been going on more dates, enjoying each other’s company and reigniting their past passion while exploring the new depths of their relationship. However it wasn’t always good, old habits die hard and with Poppy and Bea, they had a lot of bad habits. 

“I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal!” Bea runs a tired hand over her face, clearly drained from the argument. 

Poppy huffs, standing a little straighter, anger written all over her face, “because it is! Excuse me if I don’t want my personal life advertised to the world.” 

“You do that everyday on your Picta. Just admit it, you don’t want people to know we’re dating, just like in college.” 

“God can you let that go? We were different people back in college, it’s not the same thing.” Poppy clenches her jaw, balling her fists up as she stares down Bea, not willing to back down. 

Bea holds eye contact for a few more moments before breaking it, training her eyes to the ground. “I don’t want to keep fighting,” she mumbles out before stalking towards the front door, opening it. 

“Where are you going?” Poppy asks, her voice quiet. 

Bea sighs, her body visibly deflating, “I just need some air.” She walks through the door, closing it behind her, not waiting to hear Poppy’s response. She walks through the streets of New York until she finds herself standing in front of Zoey’s apartment, and after some slight hesitation, she knocks. After a few seconds, the door opens and Zoey looks over at Bea, her brows creased in confusion. 

“Hey girl, is everything okay?” 

Bea blinks back a couple of tears, her voice breaking, “can I come in?” 

“Yes of course,” Zoey moves out of the way, allowing Bea to come in, and gestures towards the couch before sitting on it. “Jesus Bea you look like hell, what happened?” 

“Things with Poppy have been rough to say the least.” Zoey momentarily winces at the mention of Poppy but she quickly masks her loathing. 

“What happened?” 

“I wanted to post this cute picture of us on Picta but she started a fight saying she doesn’t want me to post it because she’s saying she’s not ready but we've been together for 5 months now.” Bea cradles her head in her arms, obviously tired. Zoey slides closer to her, rubbing comforting circles on her back. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Zoey speaks softly, her voice lulling Bea back into safety as she wraps her arms around her pulling her into a hug. “Look, I don’t want to say I told you so…” Bea groans, evoking a laugh from Zoey. “Come on, I told you this would happen, it’s just like college.” 

*Flashback* 

Bea knocks on Poppy’s bedroom door and a few seconds later the strawberry blonde opens it, a stunned look on her face. 

“Hughes? What are you doing here?” 

Bea walks into the room, her smile on her face, so broad as she turns to look at Poppy, “I was thinking-” 

“About?” 

“About us.” Poppy raises an eyebrow, the rest of her facial expression stoic. “Be my date to the end of year gala.” 

Poppy lets out a humourless laugh, “it’s official, you’ve gone crazy.” 

Bea moves forward taking Poppy’s hands in hers, “just hear me out.” Bea takes a deep breath, before her eyes meet Poppy’s, “we have this thing going on between us and it’s been amazing but to take the next step. I want Belvoire to know that I’m with the most beautiful girl.” 

Poppy slips her hands out of Bea’s hands, crossing them over her chest, “there’s no us.” 

Bea’s facial expression falters, the wide smile transforming into a disappointed frown, “I don’t understand.” 

Poppy feels a pang in her heart as she watches Bea’s face fall, but she finds a tiny strand of anger in her body and she holds onto it, attempting to make this encounter easier for her to bear. “There isn’t an us, what’s hard to understand Farmsville?” Poppy makes her voice as blunt and monotone as possible as she shoots daggers into Bea’s eyes. 

“What about the last year? What about everything we’ve gone through?” 

“Stop using words like us and we!” Poppy shouts, wildly throwing around her arms, “it was literally sex, it doesn’t mean anything.” 

Bea bites down on her bottom lip, “just sex huh? I don’t believe it. What about the nights you asked me to stay, or the nights we talked. You’re saying they meant nothing to you?” Poppy sees the sadness swimming in Bea’s eyes, forcing her to turn away from the girl, her eyes trained on the ground. 

“It didn’t mean anything to me,” Poppy mumbles out. 

“Bullshit! I don’t believe that Pops.” 

“Don’t call me that! We aren’t anything, Farmsville and I certainly don’t want to be your stupid date to the gala.” 

“I don’t believe you, look me in my eyes Poppy and tell me that it never meant anything and I swear-” Bea swallows heavily, tears brimming in her eyes, “I swear I’ll walk out right now and I won’t ever bother you again.” Bea steps in front of Poppy, her head levels with hers as Poppy meets her eyes. “So?” 

Poppy trembles slightly, as her fingers toys with the hem of her top, “it meant nothing to me.” 

Bea nods in understanding, acceptance written on her face “okay.” She sniffles, wiping away the tears from her eyes, “have a nice life Poppy.” Bea walks out of the room, not bothering to look back. 

*Present*

“That was different Zo.” 

“How so?” Zoey raises an eyebrow. 

“That was when we were all worried about rankings and sabotage and all those petty things.” 

“Are you sure she still doesn’t care about things?” Bea playfully nudges Zoey, laughing slightly.

“Yes I’m sure. It’s just I don’t get what the problem is this time. I mean college was a tough time for us both but now, I don’t get why she’s so hesitant.”

“Commitment issues?” 

Bea shakes her head, “she seems pretty committed to me, she just doesn’t like being open.” 

“Whatever it is I know you’ll guys will work it out, and if you don’t then at least you can move on.” Bea stares off into the distance, silent. “Bea, hey I was kidding.” 

Bea gives a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, “yeah I know. Anyway enough about my problems, are you excited for your album coming out.” 

Zoey squeals, jumping up and down in her spot, “yes! Oh my god I can’t believe it’s out in a week. How’s the release party looking?” 

“I got us a great place at a club.” 

“VIP?”

“VIP treatment baby!” Bea cheers, pulling Zoey into a hug. 

…..

Slightly buzzed, the group make their way to the club, all in high spirits as they skip the line after showing their IDs and making their way to the VIP section. Bea sidles up to the bar, ordering shots for the entire team as they gather around the woman of the hour at the other side of the club. 

Once the tray of shots is delivered, Bea hands them out, before taking the last one, raising it in the air, “Let’s all raise our glasses for this incredible woman, who’s hours away from releasing her first ever album worldwide,” Bea gestures for everyone to lift their glasses, a wide smile on her face, “here’s to you Zoey Wade.” The group throws back the shot and begins cheering for Zoey. “Speech, speech, speech” Bea chants as the rest of the group follows suit, their attention focused on Zoey as they clap and cheer.

Zoey awkwardly smiles, clearly bashful. “I never really thought I would be able to make a name for myself outside of my mom and I’m just thankful and grateful for my amazing team who helped me get my feelings out and make incredible songs out of them.” The group laughs whole heartedly, and Zoey raises her drink in toast. “So this isn’t only a celebration for me, but a celebration for us all, so let’s party it up.” She throws back the shot, and everyone follows suit cheering as they do. 

“You didn’t have to do all of this Bea,” Zoey says sheepishly. 

“Ummmmm of course I did, my best friend is releasing an album! I know how hard you’ve worked on it Zo, if anyone deserves to celebrate it’s you.” Bea pulls Zoey in for a hug. 

“This club is great, how did you find it?” 

“Poppy owns it.” Zoey's face falls, “Hey, she offered to the party to be held here, a way to say sorry for everything at college.”

“So where is the queen b right now?” 

“Right here.” Poppy walks over to the girls, taking her place next to Bea. “I’m really happy for you Zoey, if anyone deserves this, it’s you.” 

“Thanks.” 

Bea looks between the girls, sensing the awkward tension between the girls augmenting. “Hey why don’t I get us some drinks?” 

“Sure.” Poppy gives a small smile as Bea walks over to the bar before awkwardly turning to face Zoey. The pulsating music from the club causes Zoey to lean closer to Poppy.

“Whatever you have going on with Bea, you better not break her heart.” 

“I won’t,” Poppy replies, “I care about her a lot.” 

“Sure you do, but we’re not at Belvoire anymore. No more games Poppy, I won’t let you hurt her again.” 

“Trust me when I say that’s the last thing I want.” 

Before Zoey can reply, Bea saunters back holding out shot glasses for Zoey and Poppy to take. The women throw back the shot before Bea turns to Poppy whispering in her ear, “dance with me?” 

Poppy looks at Zoey in the corner of her eye before replying, “sure.” Bea leads her into the middle of the crowded dance floor, pulling the strawberry blonde close to her body, wrapping her arms around her waist while Poppy’s hang around her neck. 

Bea lets out a small laugh, “what’s so funny?” Poppy inquires, raising a brow. 

“Nothing, just looking at how far we’ve come. You remember the first time we were in this club together?” 

Poppy hums in content, “I recruited you to help me take down Chloe.” 

Bea leans down to whisper in Poppy’s ear, “and then you dragged me onto the dance floor. Practically couldn’t keep your hands off me.” 

“If I’m remembering correctly, you slept with me so you could backstab me.” 

Bea’s grip on Poppy tightens, “mmh, I did want to get revenge yes, but I’m pretty sure you were the one who suggested sex in the first place.” 

Poppy laughs, “you might be remembering that wrong.” 

“Pretty sure I’m not,” Bea leans in to give Poppy a sweet kiss, until Poppy abruptly pulls away, pressing her lips together in a thin line. 

“Bea we’re in public.” 

“So? We don’t know anyone here.” 

“I invited Veronica and Chloe to be here tonight, they could be anywhere.” Poppy pulls herself away from Bea, “I’m going to get a drink, do you want one?” 

“Nah I’m good you go ahead without me.” Poppy heads over to the bar as Bea makes her way back to the VIP section, seeing a small group forming. “Hey what’s going on here?” 

“Bea!” Veronica aims her phone at Bea, a wide smile on her face. 

“Hey V,” Bea gives the ombre-haired girl a one armed hug, “how’s everything been?” 

Veronica turns off her phone, a tired look on her face, “Good, tired but life has been good.” 

“How’s life been for you Farmsville?” 

“It’s been great, I’m still waiting on you to do your review on my new restaurant.” 

“Ah so the truth comes out, you only wanted me in New York for clout.” 

“Hey Poppy invited you here to celebrate Zoey, and get some clout of her own for her club.” 

“Hey Farmsville!” Chloe stumbles towards the girls, pulling Veronica and Bea into a strong hug slightly spilling her drink on Bea as she does. 

“Chloe! You seem drunk,” Bea swipes at her shoulder, cleaning off the liquor. 

“Yeah these drinks are awesome,” Chloe hangs her tongue open, fumbling with the straw until it’s in her mouth. “Hey where’s new money? I think she has been avoiding me since I sent her over my newest clothing line.” 

“Hey Chloe? Did you ever think to become a dance choreographer? I mean you practically lead the Zeta girls back in college, why not do it now.” 

Chloe stares at Bea, deep in thought, “maybe you’re not full of bad ideas.” 

Chloe saunters off deep in thought as Zoey lumbers into the group, carefully looking around, “is she gone?” 

Veronica snorts, “yeah yeah, she’s gone now. Hey there’s Poppy.” Veronica waves her over and Poppy walks over to the group, her eyes conspicuously trying to not look at Bea. 

“Hey V, remember to get good shots of the dance floor and on the bar.” 

Veronica rolls her eyes, “yeah, yeah,” her eyes dart between Poppy and Bea, watching as the two girls try not to look at each other. She then looks over Zoey, silently gesturing between the girls. Zoey gives a subtle nod, and Veronica grins. “I need a drink, Poppy join me?” 

“Sure.” 

The girls move towards the bar where Veronica turns towards the strawberry blonde, a sly smirk on her face, “So. You seeing anyone?” 

Poppy huffs, “here and there. I like to keep my options open.” 

“So the fact that Bea is staring right at us, has nothing to do with anything?” 

Poppy freezes as Veronica grins at her, “I don't know what you’re talking about.” 

“Come on don’t lie to me. I know you guys were screwing each other during senior year.” 

“What? No we weren’t.” 

“Let's cut all of the false bullshit, come on, what’s going on with you guys?” 

Poppy sighs defeatedly, “Fine, we’ve been seeing each other for the last couple of months but it’s like I’m destined to screw up my own life.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Bea is amazing, I just sometimes don’t think I deserve her.” 

“Nah, nah, nah, none of that depressing crap P. You deserve to find someone who makes you happy and I’ve been here what five minutes? I can practically sense the love already, go and talk to her and fix whatever you messed up.” 

“How do you know I’m the one who messed it up?” 

“Because if it was Bea she would’ve fixed it already, now go.” 

Veronica shoos Poppy away as the strawberry blonde sidles up to Bea, whispering in her ear, “come somewhere quiet with me?” Bea nods as she follows Poppy to the back office, muffling the sounds of the music. 

“So what’s up?” Bea crosses her arms together, looking expectedly at Poppy.

“I don’t like this rift between us, and I know it’s my fault I just-” she sighs heavily, hanging her head in defeat, “i haven’t ever properly done the whole relationship thing and I don’t want to mess it up but it seems like that’s all I’m doing.” 

Bea uncrosses her arms, reaching out to place her hand against Poppy’s cheek, “you’re not messing up anything. We just need better communication.” 

“Bea, I know in the past I treated you like crap and I don’t even know why you want to be with me.” Bea opens her mouth to retort but Poppy shushes her, “let me finish. I don’t know why you still want to be with me but I’m so grateful that you do. I have something to admit to you.” 

“What is it?” 

“When I went to your restaurant, it wasn’t a coincidence.” Poppy takes a slow steadying breath, before her eyes meet Bea’s, “Veronica dropped that you asked her to give your restaurant a review so I subtly told Darren’s best friend about it so he could recommend it to Darren and I could come and see you.” Bea looks at Poppy in surprise, her mouth hanging slightly open. “I tried acting all cold and distant but in reality I was happy to see you and when you kissed me I was surprised. I didn’t expect you to still have feelings for me, so I got my father to hire your company last minute for the dinner.” 

Bea lets out a small huff, “once a schemer huh?” 

Poppy nervously chews on her lips, worry etched on her face, “the reason why I’ve been acting so weird is because I love you Bea Hughes, I always have. And for the first time, I’m not scared of admitting that I-” Bea silences Poppy with a deep kiss, tangling their tongues together as Bea’s hand snakes around Poppy’s throat, squeezing slightly as she kisses her harder. 

“I love you too.” Bea continues kissing Poppy, with great intensity but Poppy pulls away resting her forehead against Bea’s. 

“Do you have your phone?” 

“Uhh yeah.” 

Bea takes her phone out of her purse and Poppy takes it out of her hand, swiping to the camera, “smile,” Poppy presses her lips against Bea’s cheek, taking a series of photos before swiping through them looking for the best one. “This one.” 

“What do you want me to do with it?” Bea replies, confused. 

“Post it on picta, duh. I want the world to know I’m dating the most incredible girl.” Bea feels a warmth in her chest as she uploads the photo before taking Poppy’s hand re-entering the club. 

“I saw the picta post, I guess congrats are in order.” Veronica smiles at the girls while Poppy looks around and locks eyes with Zoey who gives her a small nod, content. Poppy pulls Bea in for a kiss, a smile on her lips. 

“I love you Bea Hughes.” 

“And I love you Poppy Min Sinclair.” 

Chloe stalks up to the group, waving her phone in her hand, “you’re dating Bea? Seriously?” 

Poppy looks up at Bea, warmth in her eyes, “Yep I sure am.”

[bylerboyfriends]

"I heard that movie sucked" for whoever you want💕

“Where have you guys been?”

Mike, Lucas, Will, and Dustin were walking down the steps into the Wheeler basement when the voice of a red head startled them out of their chatter. “How’d you get down here?” Mike asks.

“Your mom let us in hours ago,” Max says, gesturing to El. “Told us you guys were in the basement. Clearly she was wrong.”

All of the boys looked at each other with wide eyes. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Max looked Mike up and down, his panicked posture amusing her. After a few tense seconds, Max comforts the boys. “No. Figured I could use it as blackmail later. Now, answer my previous question. Where were you guys?”

Will answered excitedly, “We saw Child’s Play!”

“It was totally awesome! But... rated R. Hence the reason Mike’s mom wouldn’t let us go. Hence the reason we had to sneak out.” Dustin continued.

“I heard that movie sucked.”

Will and Dustin react as if they had been shot. The other two boys just shrugged, seemingly agreeing with the statement.

“It didn’t suck!” Will argues.

“Yeah, it didn’t suck,” Lucas says. “But it wasn’t really that great either. I mean, so many things didn’t make sense. Like why would they sell the doll after a satanic ritual was performed on it?”

“The store blew up! It would be impossible to know which one had been possessed!” Will rebutted, Dustin agreed with a frantic nodding of the head.

“The dude had a bloody hand,” Lucas argued back. “The fabric would have been stained.”

“Well, the doll was being sold by a hobo, he probably found it in the wreckage and cleaned it up a bit to make a quick buck.” Dustin said, as if it was common sense.

“Okay, it was fine!” Mike said, seemingly in hopes of ending the argument.... “Until the doll started making facial expressions and killing people on it’s own. And it bit the mom! Which left unrealistically deep teeth marks.”

Will flopped on the couch beside El, already tired of the disagreement. But Dustin wasn’t finished defending the film.

“It was POSSESSED by a HUMAN! And HUMANS can make facial expressions and BITE PEOPLE!”

“Okay, well the electrocution of that doctor was disgusting and the visual was not needed.”

Will joins the argument once again from his spot on the couch. “Really, Mike? You’ve seen worse.”

“I have! But I don’t want to be reminded of that while I’m trying to watch a movie with my friends!”

“Oh boo hoo. Are you going pansy on me, Wheeler?”

Mike pauses for a second, he didn’t expect Will to get so defensive over what he thought to be a pointless argument. He decided to respond flirtatiously to ease the tension.

“If that’s what ya want, sweetheart.” He winked with a smirk on his face.

“Gross!” Shouted El, who had been silently observing the heated discussion from the middle of the couch.

“Agreed,” said Max, “Disgusting. But also... thank you for changing the subject. Was scared you boys were going to ruin the movie completely.”

“Why does it matter? You said it sucked,” Lucas commented, after silently chuckling at Mike’s bad flirting.

“No, I said I heard it sucked. But now that I’ve seen how riled up it makes you boys, I want to see it for myself to take a side of my own.” Max stands up from the couch and looks back at El. “Wanna come with me?”

“Duh!”

She grabs Max’s hand and they say goodbye to the boys before climbing up the stairs and leaving the Wheeler residence.

Lucas and Dustin glance between the other two boys, look at each other, and come to a silent agreement.

“Well! Dustin and I should head out-“

“I thought we were all gonna sleep here?” Asked Mike.

They both stayed silent for a moment, thinking of an excuse.

“I need to... brush my cat. Like badly.” The curly headed boy responded rashly.

“Oh yea! You did tell me about that, Dustin! Your mom said she’s got this weird condition in her fur that can cause her to inflate if it gets too long, right?”

“Exactly! And yanno, my mom is out with my aunt so... it’s up to me to save my cat’s life.”

“Yes and I’m going to tag along! For-“

“Moral support!”

“Moral support!” Says Lucas, “In case we’re too late and the cat... explodes.”

Dustin nods in agreement. Then both boys dash up the stairs, leaving Mike and Will alone.

Will was still looked upset, which both scared and confused Mike at the same time. He really didn’t think the argument was that serious. He takes a deep breath and sits on the opposite end of the couch.

“Will? What’s wrong? I-I didn’t mean whatever I said. I didn’t know the argument was that serious to you or I would have taken your side! I swear! I just- I just like when you get passionate about things... it’s cute.”

Will stares at his boyfriend for a few long seconds, causing Mike to get redder and redder. Then he laughs.

“It’s not funny...! It’s very unsettling when you and Max do that...”

Once he has settled down, Will attempts to explain his frustration but falls short because of self-doubt. “It’s not... it’s just... never mind. It’s stupid.”

“Will, nothing you say is stupid.” Mike takes the other boy’s hand. “Tell me.”

He takes a deep breath before coming clean, “I just... I really liked the movie because it... the main character reminded me of myself. You know, in the upside down? I mean demagorgans and dolls are two completely different things but. We both had to survive it, you know? It made me feel like I wasn’t alone. I’m not as much of a freak for having a story no one believes. It’s hard to explain-”

“No, I get it,” Mike says. “I’m sorry, Will, I wasn’t even thinking about that.”

“...I’ll forgive you...IF you quit feeling guilty and come cuddle me already because you’re right.”

“Right about what?”

“That electrocution scene! It freaked me out.”

Both boys laughed before tangling their bodies and holding each other close.

***

it’s FINALLY DONE!! thank you so much for the request, Jack!

I’ll finally start on another one, but please be patient if it takes a little while. Online school has started back, I’m working 2 jobs, and I’m rehearsing for a musical so I AM going to do requests in my inbox I’m just vv busy. Thanks!

[babbushka]

Swingtime

Flip Zimmerman x Reader ; 1.8k ; NSFW 

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

“Well,” You say with a bit of a laugh in your voice, as Flip closes the front door and locks it firmly shut behind you, “That was something else.”

“Yeah.” Flip agrees, although his tone is less playful.

Far less playful.

He puts the keys in the dish by the door with a little too much force, angry. He’s angry.

You had just come back from what was supposed to be a nice dinner party with one of Flip’s work friends, a beat cop named Gregory who had a nice wife named Marsha. You had even baked a pie, not wanting to show up empty handed.

When Marsha had answered the door topless, and you and Flip were confronted with an actual orgy taking place right in the middle of the sitting room, you had nearly dropped the apple crumble in shock, and Flip had yanked you back to the car before you could even apologize for it.

But now you were home, and while he had been quiet the whole drive back, now he’s angry.

“Honey?” You ask, placing a gentle hand on his chest, as his fists clench and unclench, as he chews his lip in that way he does whenever he’s about to explode.

You try to catch his gaze, chasing it, when finally his arms slide around your middle and pull your hips flush to his.

“Who the fuck do they think they are, thinking I’d share you?” He whispers as he caresses your lower back, too angry, afraid of shouting.

Ah, you think with a hint of a smile, as you wind your arms up around his neck, rub your nose against his in an attempt to calm them down.

“Hmm, I think they wanted you more than me.” You point out, because really, if anyone was going to be invited to an orgy, it would be Flip. Your husband is built like a fridge in all the best ways, a tall wide slab of muscle.

But he’s shaking his head, walking you backwards through the house, walking you to the stairs before tightening his grip on you and carrying you up them, carrying you all the way to the bedroom.

“No, no way.” He grumbles, only getting more and more mad with each step. You can practically feel the steam shooting out of his ears and he puts you down on the bed. “Did you see the way Greg was looking at you? I should kick his fucking teeth in, looking at my wife like that.”

“Kiss me?” You ask, because you know he needs to let this all out, needs to get out his frustration in the only way that will work.

Flip practically tackles you on the bed, yanks off your shoes and his, pushes and shoves you up the mattress, climbs his way on top of you. You bury your hands in his hair, open your mouth for him, and he meets your lips with such force that your teeth clack together at first.

He’s growling against you, breathing heavy, so heavy, and you can feel the hard line of his dick in his jeans as it presses against your thigh, as he cups your face in his hands tightly, kissing you with a bruising force.  

“You’re my fucking wife.” He growls against your lips, possessive and obsessed, and you moan into his mouth because yes, you are.

You tell him as much as you yank his buttons open, wanting to expose his muscular chest, wanting to expose all of him.

“That’s right honey, I’m all yours, only yours.” You nod, and he bites hard at your jaw, your neck, big hands popping the buttons off your blouse, sending them scattering as he shoves his thigh between your legs hard, rubs at your cunt with his knee, making you whine for him.

“I don’t want anyone else, I don’t want to look at anyone else.” He’s shaking, hands are trembling when he unclasps your bra, when he tosses it across the room, working on getting your skirt off next, “I don’t want anyone else looking at you.”

“They won’t, they – Flip!” You yelp out when he slides too many fingers into you at once, doesn’t even bother to take off your panties, just pulls them to the side and stuffs you full.

“Spread ‘em, ketsl.” He commands and you whimper as you do so.

He shuffles down the bed so he’s eye level with your hips, makes a home for himself between your soft thighs and sucks at your clit through your underwear, making you moan real loud. You’re so wet that it’s soaked through, you can tell, can tell by the slick sounds of his fast fingers, as they curl into you.

“I fucking love this pussy, pretty kitty just for me, right?” He asks fully entranced, resting his cheek on your thigh so he can watch his fingers slide in and out of you.

“R-right!” You nod, and all at once that glorious feeling of being filled is gone, as he’s withdrawing himself from your with a grunt.

“You’re not some cheap whore other men can dump their come into what the fuck were they thinking?” He seethes, that angry underbite he gets when he’s really pissed off showing through those plush lips of his. Lips that he’s licking, wetting, as he asks, “Let me have a taste of you.”

You nod, and he tugs your underwear off too roughly, spreads your legs, loops his arms under your thighs and buries his mouth and nose right in your cunt.

Your knees squeeze his head while he eats you out, his facial hair scraping against your folds, your thighs. It makes you wriggle away a bit but he isn’t having any of it, won’t let you out of his fucking grip. He licks into you, thrusts his tongue up into your pussy, rubs his nose against your clit until you’re panting, gasping hard for him. He’s bruising you up bad, so bad that it’s good, and when his tongue drags against your walls too good, you’re already ready to beg.

“Yes! Right there – oh!” You cry, your hand knotting itself in his hair, holding him down between your legs.

Despite that, he pulls back enough to just lick at you, the flat of his tongue running through your folds, his hot breath on your skin.

“You’re so sweet,” He says, all your slick making his chin shine, he wipes it onto your thigh where he then swallows it down with a soft moan of his own, “My sweet girl, all mine.”

“Please?” You ask, not really knowing what you’re asking for.

But he knows, and he’s already de-tangling himself from you so he can get himself naked too, get his cock in his hand. It’s already hard and leaking, and you get off of your back, sitting up and drawn to the head of his dick like a magnet, as you tongue his slit, encourage more pre-come to drool onto your lips.

“I gotta – ugh fuck I need – ” He tries to explain but you only jerk him off a little, your hand on his cock as you lay back down, guiding him down with you.

“Come here, take it, take what you want.” You say, voice thick and eyes hooded, “It’s all yours, take it.”

He doesn’t waste any more time, slides his throbbing cock into you.

For all his mouthing off, he’s reduced down to only grunts and groans of pleasure when he fucks you. It’s not sweet, it’s not gentle, it’s hard and rough and mean and angry and you love every second of it. His hips plow into you and he crushes your throat in one of his big hands, makes tears slip down your cheeks, licks them up with his raw tongue.

He abandons your neck for your tits, squeezes them together and shoves his face into the cleavage there, pinching and biting hard at your nipples in a way that makes you cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain, the feeling going straight to your pussy, all your nerves on fire.

He fills you so well, so much that it’s entirely overwhelming, and you’re trembling all over with pleasure, your eyes shut tight and your jaw dropped open, hands and nails digging into Flip’s shoulders, his back. Your toes are curled up tight and your hips raise up up up, meeting every thrust your husband has to give you.

He fucks his angry out, makes you come once, twice, three times, on his cock, his hands, mouth latched onto your chest to suck nasty marks that will take ages to fade. You don’t care, don’t give a shit, you give as good as you get, until he’s smacking his hand against your thigh just to let out some of the feeling of it all.  

He grabs your jaw in his hand, and you make out with the palm of it, and he watches you as he shoves his cock so far into you that it makes you wince, as he blows his load, coming hot and thick into you. He fucks you through it, grunting low in your ear, your moans and whines music to him, until you’re oversensitive and overwhelmed and tears are pooling against his fingers where he’s got your face held.

He slows down as he savors his orgasm, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose and the ends of his hair that hangs down into his face as he pulls out nearly all the way, until he’s only got the tip left in you, coming coming coming.

He pulls out for just long enough that he can see it begging to spill out of you, before nudging the head of his cock right back in, pushing it in, plugging you up.

“Shit.” He sighs, drunk off the feeling of you, as he lets himself collapse onto your chest.  

“You okay?” You ask, chest heaving, throat dry, as you card your fingers through his hair gently, scrape your nails lightly against his scalp.

He’s exhausted now, having been so worked up, pent up, frustrated aggravated angry angry angry, that now that he’s spent, all of his muscles are limp.

He rubs his face against your sternum, snuffles a little into your cleavage before pillowing his head on your breast with a content sigh.

“Yeah. Going into the station tomorrow’s going to be weird.” He says, “I still don’t know if I want to punch him or not.”

“Don’t.” You chuckle, but Flip’s already closing his eyes, pressing tired soft kisses to your opposite skin, swirling circles with his thumb against your ribcage. “I think they’re going to be embarrassed enough that they misjudged the situation. Besides, you need these hands in good working order, so you can fuck me with them.” You point out, and he hums.

“I do love fucking you.” He nods, and you smile, especially when he says, “And I fucking love you.”

You simply roll your eyes and kiss him when he tilts his face up towards you, both amused and in love all at the same time. There would be no swing time for either of you, because you both have what you want, what you need, right here in each other. 

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 2

Chapter Title: Home

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @tragiclyhip

He wakes to the sound of knuckles rapping against the bedroom door and the voices of his two youngest daughters. A hearty, home cooked meal and a soak in the hot tub had been exactly what his weary and aching body had needed. Barely managing to pull on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before exhaustion had taken over; passing out -face down- in the middle of the double king in the master bedroom. It isn’t an easy feat; napping in a house filled with seven kids. There’s always some level of chaos; near constantly bickering between the four oldest, the three littles shrieking and giggling as they chase each other around, the sound of the television or the explosions and gunfire coming from a video game being played. The latter accompanied by the occasional outbursts of profanity as Declan and TJ argue over who is beating who. If he has been away or been logging way too many hours handling things behind the scenes and DOES manage to catch some extra sleep, Esme does her best to keep the volume down; usually taking the kids down to the water or into town for a few hours. In the same way he does for her; giving her much needed ‘mommy breaks’ from time to time and letting her have the entire house to herself. It's the least he can do; let her have the house to herself to catch up on sleep or just sit and read a book on the back or to have a glass of wine while indulging in a bubble bath by candlelight.

Life is crazy in their home; noisy and chaotic and their schedules filled with work or running the kids around to their extra curricular activities. It’s tiring and often extremely frustrating; dealing with THREE preteens, a kiddo with Tanner’s additional issues, and both Brooklyn and Declan so high spirited. Addie and Takota are the easiest to deal with; one very bubbly, affectionate, and extremely social, the other quiet and thoughtful and extremely mild mannered. It’s an existence he’d never thought he’d have. Losing his first child -and the horrible mistake he’d made leading up to it- had nearly destroyed him; the combined feelings of profound grief and guilt eating away at him and leading to his addiction issues. He’d never thought he’d get another shot at a normal life; a chance to be a husband and a father again. And while he regrets the years he spent putting his family last and running away out of fear of failure, he knows many more ahead of him; many more chances and opportunities to make things right.

“Daddy?” Addie’s voice accompanies the continued knocking on the door. “Are you awake?”

He rolls over onto his back and presses the heels of his palms into his weary eyes. “Yeah…” he pushes his hands through his hair and stretches; wincing at the pain and stiffness in his lower back. “...I’m awake.”

“Mumma says dinner will be ready in about half an hour. She sent us to tell you.”

“I’m here too!” Brooklyn pipes up. “Can we come in? Can we come see you?”

“We want snuggles,” Addie says. “We haven’t had daddy snuggles in a LONG time.”

“In a really long time.” Brooklyn adds.

“We really want to snuggle with you,” Addie’s tiny voice has a pleading quality to it, and he can’t help but smile; picturing that pout and those sad little eyes and the way she tucks her chin into her chest.

She is definitely her mother; the petite stature and the small, delicate features and that smooth, pale skin accentuated by the dark strands of hair that frame her face. Their personalities are a match as well; bubbly and social and easily excitable. And the smile. So beautiful. Pure, even. Always genuine; brightening their entire face and making those dark eyes sparkle. Perhaps it’s why...out of all the kids...he tends to baby Addie. Not just that impossibly tiny build and that sunny and light disposition that never fails to make him smile, but because she IS so much like her mother. A constant reminder of the person who single handedly changed his life; saving him in every way a person CAN be saved.

“Daddy?” Brooklyn raps her knuckles against the door once again. “Can we? Can we come for snuggles?”

“What do I get out of it?”

“You get to see us!” Addie gives a dramatic huff. “You’re two most favourite girls in the whole world!”

“Get in here, then. If you’re going to put it like THAT.”

The door swings open and the girls come rushing in; giggling as they toss themselves onto the bed and scramble up towards him. Gathering them into his arms when they settle on either side of him; showering their cheeks and foreheads with kisses and running his hands over their silky, dark hair. Despite being almost a full year old, Addie remains the smaller of the two; petite in stature, possessing her mom’s small, almost dainty features and those enormous dark eyes. Esme in every possible way; appearance, personality, even the same body language and facial expressions. Brooklyn is a mix of both mom and dad; tall and lanky with his eyes and Esme’s dark hair and pale skin. She’s feisty and fearless; a lot of energy and tenacity packed into the skinny frame. She reminds him of TJ; stubborn and temperamental, yet loving so deeply and profoundly.

The girls settle in next to him; each of them with a hand resting on his stomach and their heads on his chest. His palms smoothing over their hair and then settle on the middle of their backs. It’s the greatest achievement of his life. If not the ONLY achievement. Being a dad is the one thing that he can truly be proud of; having a hand in creating seven beautiful human lives and being entrusted to bring them up to decent adults. Nothing drives him to want to be better and do better than his family. Wanting nothing more than to be the kind of father that his kids talk about and remember fondly when they have their own children. Seeing him love their mother with everything he is and everything he has; respecting her and treating her well and insisting they do as well teaching them what they should do and expect in a relationship.

It’s what he wants for his sons; finding someone they love and they want to devote themselves and who make them happy. And the same goes for his daughters; hoping the way he treats their mother teaches them what they should expect from the men -or women- in their lives. He never wants them to settle for less; end up with someone like Mark that will degrade them and abuse them in every possible way. They’re strong; like their momma. And being taught how to respect and take care of themselves. But he’d gladly take an assault charge and do time in jail messing up something that hurts his girls.

“Daddy?” Addie places her chin on his chest and reaches up to run her palms along his cheeks. “Why’d you have to go away?”

“I had some business to take care of.”

“You had to go be a boss?”

“I had to go and do a favour. For Uncle Anil.”

“What kind of favour?”

“Did you have to kill someone?” Brooklyn inquires, and lifts his arm and slips under it, pushing her tiny fingers through his much larger and longer ones.

“Why would I have to kill someone?”

“TJ said that before you became a boss, you used to go and kill people,” she explains. “Really bad people. That hurt good people. Is that true? Is that what you used to do?”

“Once in a while, yeah.”

“Is that why you went away?” Addie asks. “To kill someone?”

“I went away to do a favour for Uncle Anil and that’s all you two need to know. You been having a good time? Being back in the city?”

“It’s not as fun as when you’re not here,” Brooklyn says. “Mommy tries, but it’s hard for her to have fun with ALL of us at that same time. That’s a lot of kids; for her to try and make happy all at once. Especially when Millie is being Millie. She never wants to do anything with the rest of us.”

“She’s been really mean,” Addie adds. “To mummy. TJ got mad at her for it; he freaked out and threatened to kick her ass.”

He stares at her pointedly. “Pardon me?”

“Kick her butt, I meant. He was really mad. He said when you’re gone, he’s in charge. And that if you wouldn’t let Millie talk to mummy like that, he wasn’t going to let her do it either.”

“Then they had a big fight,” Brooklyn chimes in. “ And mummy started yelling at Millie and then Millie said she hated her and it made mummy sad. She locked herself in the pantry. I think she was crying. TJ said to leave her alone; that she’d come out when she felt better. Then he made us a snack and took us into the backyard to play in the snow. Why is Millie being like that? Mean to mummy? Mummy doesn’t deserve that. She’s an awesome mummy.”

“If we got to pick our mummies and daddies, I’d pick mummy over everyone else,” Addie muses. “She loves us. She cuts the crusts off our bread and makes dinosaur shaped pancakes and puts chocolate chips in them. And she always gives us the biggest pieces of cake or pie and just takes a little bit for herself. And she’ll make herself something different to eat, if there’s not enough for all of us. Even if it’s just a peanut butter sandwich. She says it’s what mummies do; make sure their kids have everything first. “

“She’s a good mummy,” Tyler agrees. “She’s an amazing mummy. I couldn’t have asked for a better one for you guys. And you’re right; she doesn’t deserve Millie being that way. Is that why mummy sent her out? With her friend?”

“Mummy’s feelings were really hurt,” Brooklyn pouts. “Because she tries really hard to take care of us and Millie acts like that.”

“I’ll talk to mummy. Cheer her up. And I’ll talk to Millie too.”

“Millie told us not to tell you,” Addie informs him. “She said she’d kill us. In our sleep.”

“Well, she won’t get the chance. Not if I kill her first.”

“You won’t kill Millie. She’s your daughter.” Brooklyn’s fingertips trace the tattoo that takes up the entire length of the inside of his left forearm. A permanent version of the stick figure drawing that Millie had inked onto him five years ago; their entire family -at the time- including the two dogs. The last set of twins had been added afterwards; Millie reluctantly adding two new siblings to the mix. “Maybe you can just lock her in the attic. Just feed her once in a while.”

“I can’t do THAT either. I’d go to jail. You don’t want me going to jail, do you?”

Brooklyn shakes her head. “I don’t even like when you go away for a weekend. I don’t want you to go to jail for the rest of your life. We’d never see you.”

“Mummy would bring us to visit,” Addie says. “She’d make sure we got to see him.”

“Mummy isn’t going to take us into a jail,” her sister argues. “That’s not a nice place, Ads. There's a lot of bad there.”

“Daddy’s not bad. But he’d be there. If he killed Millie or locked her up.”

“Mummy still wouldn’t take us. She wouldn’t want us in a place like that.”

“We would have to Skype then. Or Zoom.”

“Not the same. That’s not like seeing him in person. I want to see him in person. That’s why he CAN’T lock Millie up. We’d never see him again. Would you want THAT to happen?”

“No. I’d be really sad. If I didn’t get to see daddy again.”

Tyler grins. “You two do realize I’m right here, yeah?”

“Who would get the spiders and snakes out of the house?” Addie frets. “Mummy freaks out when she sees them. Remember the time she screamed and woke us all up? Almost made me pee my pants. All ‘cause there was a Huntsman on the stove.”

“Mummy was so scared!” Brooklyn giggles. “Remember she was crying? And swearing? And was yelling at daddy to get the spider? And daddy put in the container and chased her outside with it? She said she was going to divorce him because of it. She never did though.”

“But did he have to sleep on the couch for a week,” Addie says. “ I do remember that. Because he tried to sleep in my bed and it was way too small for both of us. His legs were hanging off. ‘Cause he’s like ten feet tall.”

“I’m only six three. But that was funny, wasn’t it? Chasing mommy with the spider? Even if I DID have to sleep on the couch for a week. It was worth it. Seeing her freak out like that.”

“It was hilarious!” Brooklyn enthuses, then turns serious. “But don’t tell her I said that. I don’t want her making me sleep outside. It’s cold out.”

“Your secret is safe with me. I promise.” He presses a kiss to one forehead, then the other. “What’s mummy making for dinner?”

“Chicken parm. Yummm.” Addie rubs her stomach enthusiastically. “It’s the one thing she cooks REALLY well. Well, the only thing she cooks well.”

Tyler can’t help but chuckle. “You’re savage.”

“It’s the little ones you have to watch out for. You know what mummy said?”

“I’m kind of scared to ask.”

“She said you’re taking Brookie and I d\to the American Girl store. For lunch. Two days after Christmas.”

“That’s news to me.”

“She said it’s your turn to do it,” Brooklyn says. “She did it two years in a row. It’s time for you to take one for the team. That’s exactly what she said. Are you? Are you going to take us?”

“I guess I am. Any other dads go to that place?”

“I don’t know,” Addie shrugs. “I’ve seen a couple, I guess. You’ll really do it? You’ll really take us?”

He nods. “But I am NOT wearing a tiara or anything girlie. Got it?”

“What about a fancy hat?” Brooklyn suggests. “Or one of those feathery scarves? Like we have in the dress up bin.”

“What did I just say? I’m taking you there. Isn’t that enough?”

“I told you,” Brooklyn grins victoriously at her sister. “He doesn’t know how to say no to us.”

“*****

She’s in the kitchen; denim clad ass on full display as she leans against the island. Forearms resting on the granite counter top as she flips through that day’s copy of the New York Times; a glass of white wine and a half eaten bar of chocolate within reaching distance. The littlest girls remain upstairs. Their hysterical laughter and the pounding of footsteps echoing through the house; Declan and TJ chasing them throughout the second story while roaring like dinosaurs. In the living room, Tanner teaches an intensely focused and intrigued Takota how to play checkers; the board placed on an ottoman in front of the gas fireplace.

Esme gives a small start when he curls an arm around her waist; his free hand moving her ponytail away from the nape of her neck and his lips pressing against the soft, supple skin. “Hey sleeping beauty,” she greets, as both of his hands settle on her hips and she leans back against him. “Feeling better?”

Nodding, he presses a kiss to her temple, followed by the cheek, then the corner of her mouth. “Thank you. For letting me sleep.”

“You needed it. You’ve had a hell of a five days. That’s a heck of a lot of travelling; tons of hours in the air. I’m surprised you didn’t just want to stay in bed. You could have said that you know; that you just wanted to sleep. I would have understood; I wouldn’t have been offended.”

“I spent five days away from you guys. I don’t want to miss another minute. Although, I gotta say, I had quite the wake up call. You throwing me under the bus.”

She tilts her head back and grins up at him. “Girls must have told you about the lunch at American Girl.”

“They did. And I have to say, that place? My own personal hell.”

“Every year since we started having Christmas here, they’ve got to have lunch there. I’ve taken them there both years. And besides…” she turns around to face him, hands coming to rest on his sides. “...the only day I could get reservations, was the same day that I’m taking Millie, Declan and TJ to the Rangers game.”

“What about Ovi? Or Riya?”

“Ovi is taking Tanner to the American Museum of Natural History. They do it every Christmas.”

“Riley?”

"She and Shaena aren’t arriving until two days after. Come on…” she repeatedly rubs her palms up and down his ribs. “...I’ve done it two years in a row and I can’t do it a third. Do you want me to be an alcoholic? Or to eat my weight in cheesecake? Or both? Because if I have to go to that place again…”

“What do I get out of it?”

“I’m sure we can...arrange...something. I’m not above doing favours.”

He grins. “What kind of favours?”

“Sexual ones. EXTREMELY sexual ones. Unless there’s other favours you’re thinking about.”

“No. I think sexual favours would work just fine. I won’t turn those down.”

“I’d probably die of a stroke if you did.”

“Well, we don’t want that, do we.” His palms slide around to her ass and he pulls her even tighter into him; her hands settling on his biceps and she stands on her tiptoes and into a kiss. And he both hears and feels her giggle when his fingers dig into the flesh of her ass.

“So is that a ‘yes?” Esme asks. “You’ll take Addie and Brookie to American Girl?”

“You really thought I’d say I wouldn’t do it?”

“Everyone has their limits. I thought that just might be yours. They really DO have you wrapped around their little fingers.”

“Who do you think they get THAT from? Their ability to do that?”

“I have no idea. I have no clue where they could have gotten that from. Must be a gift.”

“Yeah, a gift their mother gave them. I was pretty much wrapped around your little finger from that first day, so…”

“Only took you twelve years to admit it. I mean, I’ve known it this entire time. It was pretty obvious. To everyone BUT you.”

“Everyone?”

“Everyone. And what’s up with these?” She reaches between and slides her hands under the front of his t-shirt; fingers toying with the ties on the waistband of his joggers. “Gray sweats? You know my weakness for gray sweats. Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Is that what it takes these days? Me wearing gray sweats?”

“You could be wearing a garbage bag and you’d manage. You’re pulling out all the stops. Flowers, gray sweats. Although the latter? I already know what’s under them; not like it’s a secret.”

“I thought you liked unwrapping your gifts?”

A grin slowly spreads from ear to ear. “Oh, I do. And it’s the gift that keeps on giving. You know, you didn’t have to try so hard. I was going to put out anyway. I mean, it’s been almost a week. I’m a little...frustrated...to say the least.”

“That makes two of us. You didn’t bring one of your little ‘friends’ to New York with you? One of your special toys?”

“Nope. I wanted to wait for the real thing. So you better not disappoint me, husband. I have very high standards. And expectations. If you don’t live up to those…”

“Have I ever NOT lived up to them?”

“That was a very good point.” Her fingers hook in the waistband of his sweats, once more standing on her tiptoes, giggling into his mouth and then pushing him away when his hands clamp down on her ass. “Thank you. For agreeing to you that. Going to the doll place. You’re a real trooper, husband. I owe you one.”

“I’ll add it to the list. Of the favours you owe me.”

“You have a list?”

“You don’t?”

“Maybe…” she sing songs, then turns back to face the island. “...and you’ll have to put up with them going on a little shopping spree. My mother send them gift cards; to American Girl.”

“Your mother actually sent them something?” He moves to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water before briefly stepping into the pantry; resurfacing with a handful of pills. Meds to control the mild to moderate pain and the inflammation from the arthritis that inhabits his body and an antidepressant AND psychotic. It’s old hat now; four times a day to control pain, the others taken twice a day to ward off any issues from his mental health problems. And it’s been five years of pretty good success; no major depressive episodes and only a handful of panic attacks. A far cry from the life he HAD been living.

“I actually think it was my step father. Have you noticed how things change every time they get back together? The emails start up, the birthday cards and money start rolling in, the Christmas gifts arrive. It’s like clock work; they hook back up, she attempts to come across as a normal grandmother.”

Uncapping the water, he swallows half with the handful of pills, then stands across from her and leans stomach first against the counter. “We both know there’s nothing normal about that woman. How you turned out relatively sane is beyond.”

“Relatively sane? Are you trying to say I’m just a tad INSANE?”

“I’m saying you have a tendency to be a little...high strung. A little neurotic.”

“Yet you still married me. Imagine that.”

“What can I say? I’m a sucker for big brown eyes and freckles.”

“Something tells me it wasn’t my eyes and my freckles that you first noticed. But whatever helps you sleep at night. But yes. My mother DID send them something. Shockingly, she sent them ALL something. I can’t believe she even remembered we have seven children. I thought maybe she stopped counting after Declan.”

“Well she stopped caring after TJ and Tanner. Remember how pissed she was that we named one of them after me?”

“Oh, I distinctly remember the epic hissy fit she threw in my hospital room. When we told her what their names were. I completely remember her meltdown.”

“Wasn’t it something about that name just setting the kid up for failure? I think I remember a part about me being a black cloud over the whole family and just bringing bad luck on the kid? Something like that, anyway.”

“She’s fucking insane. She always has been. I warned you; before we moved to Colorado. I told she was nuts. You thought I was overreacting.”

“I will never, ever doubt you again. And I’m going to regret even asking, and don’t take this as a sign I actually give a shit, but how is the old bitch doing?”

“Well, she’s still alive. Alive enough to grate on my nerves and make me want to drink. Alive enough to undergo her sixth round of chemo. What ever happened to the whole ‘she won’t live past a year’ scenario? That’s what we were told. SIX years ago. You think she’s THAT evil? So evil nothing can kill her?”

“I think she’s got a few horseshoes up her ass. She’s not done tormenting people yet, I guess.”

“Well she can right ahead and torment someone else. I’m not in the mood for her shit.” Picking up the glass of wine, she downs half of it, then moves to the fridge to grab the bottle out of the fridge.

“Something tells me that isn’t sparkling cider.”

“It’s the real deal. I actually had it delivered. It’s been a long day. Between dealing with my family and their attempts at reconciliation and your daughter between the spawn of Satan, be thankful I’m not already passed out on the bathroom floor.”

“Shades of last New Years Eve. She’s been that bad? Millie?”

“Bad doesn’t even begin to describe what she’s been like. Bad times...oh I don’t know...a thousand?” She fills the wine glass to the brim, then takes another long swallow. “Did you hear about my meltdown? How I locked myself in the pantry of sorrow and self pity? I know for sure the girls told you about that.”

“Yeah, they told me. Something about Millie saying she hates you.”

“Remember how she told me she hated me when she was six? Over the whole not telling her you were in the hospital thing? Remember I told you that nothing could possibly hurt more than your six year old telling you she hates you?”

Tyler nods.

“I was wrong. I was SO wrong. It hurts much worse when your eleven year old tells you. Because when they get to THAT age and you actually see and hear the hate they have for you? Yeah, that’s the real deal. And you know why it started? I asked her to unload the dishwasher. That’s it. She threw a fit; freaking out about how I’m lame and boring and stupid and I’m ruining her life and she hates me. That’s the kind of day I’ve had.”

Sighing heavily, he runs his hands over his face. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Oh that will go over real well. Like a fart in church. You know what that’s going to do? Cause an even bigger freak out. Over me turning daddy against her. You know that’s what she’ll say. She says it every time you get on her about something. She calls me a rat and a snitch. A cry baby. For running to you and whining about things. Her exact words.”

“Are you sure she wasn’t switched at birth? Are you sure they didn’t fuck up at the hospital and our real daughter isn’t out there somewhere? How did we have a kid like this? Neither of us are THAT bad.”

“I’d accept the switch at birth theory if she didn’t look just like you. If she didn’t have the same body language and facial expressions and all that. It’ll just make things worse; if you talk to her. She’ll just hate me even more and there’ll be even more drama in the house. Can we not have a nice Christmas? I’d like to have a nice Christmas.”

“With her acting like THAT? Won’t be too nice if she’s pulling that bullshit. She can’t get away with that, Me. She can’t talk to you like that. Disrespect you like that. I don’t let strangers disrespect my wife so I’m sure as hell not going to let my own kid do it. I’ll talk to her.”

“By talk to her, you actually mean put the fear of God into her.”

“If I have to. Is she home now?”’

“Up in her room sulking. Because some boy called her for her and I wouldn’t let her talk to him.”

“A boy called? Here. For Millie? Our Millie. Who doesn’t give a shit about boys back home. That’s who we’re talking about, yeah?”

“Some boy she met at the movies,” Tanner says, as he wanders into the kitchen and grabs two bottles of water from the fridge. “Aaron. What a dumb name. I bet he IS dumb. You’d have to be dumb to like Millie.”

“Okay, Nugget, that is not nice,” Esme gently scolds. “I know she’s been a holy terror since we got here, but that is not a nice thing to say about your sister.”

“She’s evil. She told Declan he’s adopted and that’s why he has red hair and doesn’t look like any of us. And she made Takota cry; she told him an alligator lived in the toilet and that the next sat down on it, it was going to bite his penis off.”

“And this was all on the first day here,” Esme addresses Tyler, and sips her wine. “And you wonder why I’m drinking.”

“I bet you it’s puberty,” Tanner says, as he turns on his heel and heads back to the living room. “I read about it, you know. It’s all about the hormones. Some people go totally off the reservation. I bet that’s Millie’s issue. She’s probably going to get her period soon.”

Esme scowls. “Thank you, Nugget. We really need to hear that. That just made things so much better.”

“I’m just saying, mum. It would explain A LOT. Didn’t you used to get all nutso when you had your period?”

“Not that my menstrual cycle is any of your business, but how old do you think I am? WHEN I had it? I still have it, thank you very much. Why do you think your dad comes home with cartons of ice cream and bags of chocolate bars at the same time every month? He knows it tames the beast.”

Tyler nods in agreement.

“I am NEVER getting married,” Tanner declares. “Too much craziness. I’m not dealing with THAT shit.”

Esme gives a derisive snort and looks at her husband. “Have kids they said. It’ll be fun they said.”

“I told you we should have stopped after the first one. But you didn’t want her to be an only child. You said she’d be lonely and hate us for not giving her siblings and people to play with. And now here we are.”

“Yes. Here we are. Seven later. And as much as they drive me insane and as feral as they are and even though I could run away sometimes, I love them. They drive me to drink, but I do love them. I’m not a perfect mother. I know that. But I try. You know I do.”

“You’re an amazing mum. Don’t don’t doubt it because Millie is being a bitch. Don’t take it to heart; I told my old man I hated him tons of times.”

“Your father used to beat you on the regular and lock in a shed for two days with no food. This is hardly the same thing. He gave you many reasons to hate him. Am I giving her reasons? To hate me?”

“No. You’re not. You’re a great mum, Me. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kids. This is her. All her. And she doesn’t hate you. She loves you. You’re her mother.”

“I saw it in her eyes, Tyler. I heard it in her voice. She does hate me. And…” her voice cracks with emotion. “...and it hurts. Because I have tried so hard over the last eleven years to be a good mom. I’ve tried to be the complete opposite of what I had growing up. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong. To make her hate me? What have I done? What mistakes have I made?”

“Me...come on…” Walking around to the other side of the island, he plucks the wine glass out of her shaky hand and sets it on the countertop. “...this isn’t about you.” Cradling her face in his palms, his thumbs brush against her cheeks as he presses a kiss to her forehead and then draws her into his arms; tightly pressed against him with one hand on the small of her back and the other on the nape of her neck. “None of this is about you.”

“Where did I go wrong with her? What…?”

“Nowhere. You didn’t do anything wrong. I know it hurts, babe. I know it makes you feel like shit; hearing her say those things. But it’s not your fault.”

“Something had to have happened. For her to be like this. I must have done something.”

“Hey…” he once more takes her face in his hands. “...stop. You didn’t do a goddamn thing wrong. This is all her. Whatever the fuck is going on, I’ll find out. I’ll talk to her.”

“Try not to make things worse.”

“I wouldn’t do that. You know I wouldn’t.”

“I just don’t get her. When I found out she was going to be a girl, I had all these plans. All these little daydreams. About how close we’d be and all the things we’d do together and how I’d be so different from my own mother. And I’ve tried. I’ve tried so hard. Not to be anything like her.”

“And you’re not. You’re nothing like her.”

“I just don’t know what happened. Between Millie and I. And if I don’t know what happened, how am I supposed to fix it? She won’t talk to me. Not without fighting, anyway. And when she gets started in on me, TJ loses it. He flips his shit.”

“He’s protective of his momma. He always has been.”

“He is so much like you. It’s like watching and listening to a mini you. It’s scary sometimes; how alike the two of you are. Could you get him to rein it in a bit? Because he snaps and it’s not a nice thing to see. I’m afraid he’ll hurt her one day. Really hurt her.”

“I’ll talk to him too. He’s just protective. He’s trying to take care of you. But I’ll talk to him; get him to tone it down.”

“I thought he was going to beat the shit out of Jacobi today. That would not have ended well.”

“Yeah, he would have destroyed Jacobi.”

“He’s seventeen. TJ’s ten.”

“Don’t underestimate that kid. I’ve seen him fight. He took on four kids when he was five. Older kids. And beat the shit out of all of them. He could take Jacobi. No doubt in my mind. Should have let him try. I would have loved to have seen that.”

“Don’t encourage it. The last thing we need is him beating the crap out of Jacobi and Jacobi’s mother showing up on the doorstep.”

“Imagine how embarrassing that would be? Your seventeen year old son getting his ass beat by a ten year old?”

“We are not going to encourage our ten year old to beat anyone’s ass.”

“Ask me the kid deserves it. I know about his little crush on you.”

“He’s a teenager. I have seven kids. I’m forty one years old!”

“A very hot and sexy forty one year old.”

“In your eyes.”

“In A LOT of peoples’ eyes. What? You think I don’t know. That my wife’s a MILF? I’ve known it for eleven years. It’s nothing new. I’ve got thirsty women at the soccer park and on the playground, you’ve got horny seventeen year olds.”

“Only seventeen year olds don’t stand a chance. The women at the soccer park and on the playground? They’re all grown up.”

“And I don’t give a shit about a single one of them. I only have eyes for you, babe. Do I wear my gray sweatpants for anyone else?”

She grins. “No.”

“Do I wear them out in public? Or do I just wear them at home?”

“Just at home. Because you know I love gray sweatpant season. Especially YOU during gray sweatpants season.”

“Only you, Me,” he says, and cradles her face in his hands as he kisses her softly. “It’s always only been you. It always will be.”

*****

Despite having their own bedrooms, the three littlest insist on sleeping in the same bed; all climbing under the covers in Addie’s room and then settling down for a round of bedtime stories. They’re still excited from both his return and what it means now that he’s under the same roof. Christmas activities are now able to commence; decorating inside and outside, going to pick out a tree, a visit to Rockefeller centre, skating and sledding. The seven had all banded together, insisting that no lights or decorations be put up until daddy got there. It will be a whirlwind of activity; only a week before Christmas day and so many things that need to get done. An attic full of presents -shipped from Australia throughout the year and intercepted by Ovi and put into hiding- that need to be wrapped, lights that need to be put up outside, his own shopping that needs to get done. Never learning NOT to save getting things for the wife at the last minute.

He used to hate Christmas; too many memories -both good and bad- that tied him to his mother and in turn, the loss of her and his father’s torment and abuse. Even during his first marriage and when Austin was alive he’d sucked at ‘getting into the spirit; attempting to be happy and trying his best to enjoy the moments with his little family. As a single guy living in the shack in the outback, he’d simply ignored the holiday altogether; spending it drunk and high off his ass or taking jobs that no one else would. And it had been a struggle; getting used to a wife that loves Christmas and everything associated with it. But seeing the joy in her face and how excited his kids get leading up to the days before Santa’s visit had helped repair the wounds inside of him. Using their happiness as a way of igniting his own; quickly and effortlessly finding his own joy in the season and in making new traditions and memories with his family.

By the end of the third bedtime story, all three littles are asleep; girls passed out under each arm and Takota stretched out on top of him. It’s a feat to get away without waking any of them up. Somehow managing -despite the discomfort and tightness in his back that has him wincing- to set up and gingerly place his son in the middle of Brooklyn and Addie before slowly and cautiously climbing out; tucking Addie’s pink and frilly unicorn themed comforter around all three little bodies before turning out the light and slipping from the room. Door left slightly ajar; Mac taking his usual resting place in front of it. He’ll stay there until he’s certain his tiny charges are safe and sound, then will make his way into the master bedroom and find his usual spot at the end of the bed.

He checks on the older boys; still awake and busying themselves in the twins’ room; mindful to keep the noise down so as not to wake their siblings. The room is enormous; twice the size of the master and consisting of its own full bathroom with double sinks and showers. Declan has his own quarters but often bunks in with TJ and Tanner; making himself comfortable with just a sleeping bag and a pillow on the floor and insisting that’s all he needs. Tanner is already ‘locked’ in his own little world. A safe and quiet place that Tyler had created for him on the bottom bunk; enclosing it with a sliding barn door easily opened from both inside and out, and strings of white mini lights giving the kid the calm and soothing ‘ambiance’ he needs when overwhelmed. He’s good at managing it; knowing ahead of time when he’s starting to become overstimulated and always finding a quiet and safe place to ‘decompress’. He often handles it better than even his parents do; learning how to cope with the things that trigger him and being his own best advocate.

“Hey...Nug…” he raps his knuckles against the wood. Giving Tanner both the chance to answer and to decide if he wants his ‘safe space’ breached. “...you alive in there? Give me a sign.”

He gets a knock back in response, followed by the rustling of blankets before the door slides open and Tanner’s face greets him; his shoulder length hair messy and knotted and a beaming smile spreading from ear to ear.

“Hi dad.”

“You good? Everything alright?”

“I’m good. I just wanted to be quiet.”

“I don’t blame you. Those two…” he casts a glance towards Declan and TJ; one climbing the ‘rock wall’ that had been created a year ago and the other slithering his way up the rope that dangles from the ceiling. “...can be damn noisy.”

“Just a bit,” Tanner agrees.

“What’cha doing?”

“Just writing a bit,” Tanner holds up the leather bound journal -one of many he’s owned and are already full and packed away in a locked box in the back of his closet back home- he’d been scrawling in. Some are used to document his daily life; passages about his struggle being ‘different’ and his brain not working like everyone else’s, others gushing about something fun and exciting he’d gotten to take part in. “I had some really cool dreams while you were gone. That’s what I’m writing about. Will you read them?”

“I always do, don’t I?” He’s in fact the only one who DOES get to read what Tanner writes. Tanner trusting him wholly and completely and enjoying the fact they have a ‘secret’.

“I’ll bring it with me tomorrow. So you can see it. We’re still going right?”

“It’s our thing, right? Always what we do. Breakfast and time out. Just the two of us.”

“It’s a bit different this year. It’s always been the first morning after we get here. But you didn’t come with us this time.”

“I know. And I’m sorry about that. That I had to go and take care of himself. We still buddies?”

“Best buddies. I know you couldn’t help it. That you HAD to go. I’m just glad you’re back. I miss you when you’re gone. Do you have to go away again?”

“Not for a very long time. If ever. I’ll do my best, okay? To not have to go away again.”

“Okay. I’m excited. About tomorrow.”

“Me too, Nug. You need anything? You got your snuggies?”

“I’ve got them all here.” He nods down at the array of stuffed animals arranged at his feet.

“Blankie?”

Tanner holds up the corner of the weighted blanket already stretched out over top of him.

“You’re getting good at this. You won’t need me to check on you much longer.”

“Yes I will. I like when you check on me and we chat. Makes me feel special.”

“You ARE special. Very special. Don’t let anyone tell you any different. Take your meds?”

“Mummy made sure. I’m not sleepy yet though. I’m going to write some more. So you have lots to read tomorrow. Don’t forget your glasses.”

Tyler grins. “Your mom is rubbing off on you.”

“You need them to read. And to go on the computer. And you probably should wear them when you’re on your phone too. Don’t be so stubborn.”

“Speaking off glasses, make sure you take yours off BEFORE you fall asleep.”

“This isn’t my first rodeo. I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re even starting to SOUND like your mother. You in the mood for a hug?”

Tanner nods enthusiastically. “Yup.”

Leaning down, he curls an arm around the ten year old’s slender frame just as two arms encircle his neck. It’s best to never push anything on Tanner; let him call the shots even when it comes to something as simple as affection. “Love you, Nug.”

“Love you too, daddy. I’m glad you’re here.”

“So I am. You sleep good okay? I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll go to our same place.”

“I can’t wait! They’re pancakes are the BEST. Well, not as good as yours and those ones mummy makes with the chocolate chips. But still really good. Will you give mummy another hug and kiss from me? I don’t think I hugged her long enough. And she deserves a long hug and an extra kiss. She had a bad day.”

“I will. I promise.”

“And tell her I love her? To the moon and back?”

“I will tell her that. And she loves you too. She loves you so much.”

“I know. She doesn’t even have to say it. It’s all the things she does for me. Making sure I have my meds and double checking to make sure I brought all my favourite snuggies and that I always have enough pens for writing. And it’s when she smiles at me and calls me ‘Nugget’ and she plays with my hair when we snuggle. I know mummy loves me. She doesn’t make it a secret.”

“She’s loved you right from the start. When you were just a little bean in her tummy. You sleep good, alright? Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t.” Tanner gives his dad’s neck one last squeeze. “I love you, daddy. See you later alligator.”

Grinning, he lightly tousels Tanner’s hair. “In a while crocodile.”

*****

Millie answers on the second knock; a terse ‘come in’. She’s been moody and towing a very thin line since she emerged from her room at dinner time. Snapping at her younger siblings and calling them ‘stupid’ and ‘annoying’ if they so as much asked her to pass them something; rolling her eyes whenever her mother spoke to her or just flat out ignoring her altogether. Eventually Tyler had had enough. What should have been a happy return home and getting to have dinner with his family after five days away turned into a screaming match; him ordering Millie up to her room with her dinner and her accusing him of hating her and always taking everyone’s side when ganging up on her. What used to be easily managed behaviour when she was six has become increasingly difficult to put up with; her attitude and her mouth almost unbearable. And she’s come to realize that those big blue eyes and that pout don’t immediately cause daddy to cave; he no longer buckles to the faux remorse or the feelings of guilt he’d get whenever he’d raise his face or scold her.

He leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest; his daughter avoiding all eye contact as she silks in the middle of her bed. “What’s up your ass?”

“What’s up yours?”

Tyler scowls. “Excuse me? You did not say what I think you just said.”

Millie chews nervously on her bottom lip. A habit she’d inherited from her mother. “Sorry.”

“What is going on with you? You’ve been acting like an asshole for four days. Don’t even try and deny it. You really thought I wouldn’t find out? You have six brothers and sisters. You really think they wouldn’t talk? You really thought you could tell Addie and Brookie you’d kill them in their sleep if they told me?”

“I knew they’d rat on me. And I knew SHE’D rat on me.”

“Who is she? And you better not say your mother. I know you’re not talking about her like that. Especially to me.”

“You always take HER side. Always. You used to on my side. Now you’re kissing her butt and…”

“Okay, first of all…” He leaves the door open as he stalks into the room; keeping his temper in check as he stands at the foot of the bed. “...SHE has a name. And to you, it’s mum. You don’t talk about your mother like that. Especially to me. Second, check your tone. You don’t talk to me like that. Ever. Got it?”

Millie nods.

“What the fuck, Amelia? I leave for four days and THIS is how you behave? Didn’t I warn you BEFORE I left? About treating your mother right? Did I not tell you I better not find out you were mouthy and disrespectful to her? I’m pretty sure I did.”

“You did.”

“You don’t talk to your mother like that. You don’t treat her like that. She doesn’t deserve it. Do you know what she went through to even have you? Do you know how close she came to not ever knowing about you? She gave up her entire life for you. She has loved you from the minute she found out she was having you. Do you know how lucky you are to even have a mother? Never mind one that loves you as much as she does? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. It’s her! It’s all her!”

“I know your mum isn’t perfect. She’s the first to admit it. But I also know you’re full of shit. What has she done? What has she done that’s so bad that you think you can treat her like you are? Give me an example. One thing that is so bad.”

Millie shrugs.

“You’re going to knock your shit off. And not just for a couple days either. You’re going to apologize to your mum and you’re going to mean it. And you’re going to start helping her out and you’re NOT going to ruin Christmas for her or your brothers and sisters. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but until you can talk about it calmly and rationally, I don’t want to hear it. Got it?”

She nods.

“And by the way, that Aaron called back. Only this time I talked to him.”

Millie’s eyes widen.

“Imagine how surprised I was to find out he’s sixteen. And imagine his surprise when I told him you were only eleven. For some reason, he thought you were fourteen. Is there a reason he thought that?”

“No.”

“You want to try again?”

“I told him I was fourteen. Because he’s really cute and I wanted him to call me.”

“Well, I don’t think he’ll be calling back. Because I told him if he ever called again, he’d regret ever getting your number. That if he ever came near my daughter...my ELEVEN year old daughter...I’d beat his ass into the middle of next week. Then I’d rip his head off and shove it up his ass and drop his corpse on his mother’s doorstep.”

Tears of both anger and despair well in her eyes. “Why? Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re eleven. And no sixteen year old should be calling an eleven year old. What the hell is wrong with you? How’d you think you’d get away with that? Giving OUR number to a boy? What the hell, Amelia?”

“Why do you and mom want to ruin my life?”

“We’re your parents and we are trying to protect you. Do you not know what could have happened to you? Talking to this guy? What if he’d wanted to see you? You know we wouldn’t have let you. What were you going to do? Sneak out of the house?”

“I don’t know…”

“Say you did. And say this guy decided to take advantage of you. What then? What would you have done then?”

She shrugs.

“We’re not trying to ruin your life. We’re trying to keep you safe and sound. We’re trying to keep you alive. Sixteen? Really? Nothing good was going to come of that and you know it. You need to smarten up, Monkey. You need to get your head out of your ass and stop treating your mum like shit. And stop terrorizing Kota. You know he takes everything seriously. Now he doesn’t want to sit on the toilet.”

“It was a joke. He doesn’t have to be such a baby about everything.”

“He’s FIVE. He practically IS a baby. If you don’t have anything to say to him, don’t say anything at all. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m being serious, Amelia. You need to check that attitude of yours. And that mouth. Don’t talk to your mother the way you do. Don’t disrespect her. I’ve told you tons of times; no one disrespects my wife. That includes my own kids. Knock it off. Now. You better wake up tomorrow an entirely different person. Because I’m not going to put up with it. Understand me?”

“I understand.”

Journeying around to the side of the bed, he runs a palm over her hair and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “Regardless of what you think about me right now, I love you.”

“I love you, dad. And I’m sorry. About everything. Especially about that boy.”

“You’re smarter than that. WAY smarter than that. Can we at least try to have a good Christmas? Think you can do that? Make it a pleasant one for everyone? Especially for yourself?”

She nods.

“I DO love you. I’ve always loved you. I always will. Just...I don’t know...stop being such a shit. Stop being so…”

She grins up at him. “So you?”

“That sounds like your mother talking.”

‘Well, she IS really smart.”

“Be nice to her, okay? Because that is the love of my life. The mother of my kids. And no one treats her like that. She loves you. Don’t ever forget that. And I know you love her.”

“I do. I do love her.”

“Well why don’t you try telling her THAT once in a while? Because she’d rather hear that , than you saying you hate her. Get her some slack. She’s got a lot on her plate. And she’s trying really damn hard. If you’re still hungry, there’s leftovers in the fridge. And lots of ice cream. Candy cane crackle. Your favourite. It’s in the freezer in the basement. Don’t tell your mum I told her.”

Millie smiles. “Our little secret?”

“Our little secret.”

“I missed you, daddy. I was angry. That you left. You said you wouldn’t leave again. That there’d be no reason to. That once you became a boss, you wouldn’t have to.”

“I’ve left before. I’ve been gone a few times.”

“A few times in FIVE years. And this is the second time this year alone. And you promised. That you wouldn’t do that anymore. Go after bad people. You PROMISED.”

“I know. I know I did.”

“What if something happened? What if you really DID die this time? What then? It would just be us. Seven kids and mum. And that’s not fair. Especially to mum. She loves us, but she loves YOU too. And she shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

‘“You’re right. She shouldn't.” He takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Is that what this is about? The way you’ve been behaving? Me being gone?”

“Some of it, I guess. I was mad. At you. But I missed you at the same time. You told us you’d never go back to it again; going after bad people. You said you were done with that. You promised mom. That you’d stay home.”

“And I have been. Staying home. It’s nothing like it was before.”

“But it still hurts her. Whether it’s once or twice a year. It still bugs her. Because she loves you and she’s worried about you. Why would you promise her stuff and then turn around and do the total opposite it? Why would you promise us stuff and not stick to it?”

“It needed to be done. Anil asked me to help out. He needed me.”

“WE need you. Mum needs you. Can’t he get someone else? He can find someone else. Mum can’t find another husband. We can’t find another dad. It would hurt us a lot more to lose you than it would hurt Anil.”

“I know it would. And I’m sorry. For leaving. If there was someone else or another way…”

“I don’t want you going away.” The tears finally come; large, hot tears that spill down tanned cheeks. “I don’t want you going away and dying. I don’t want to lose you. You’re my dad. I don’t want another dad.”

“Come here, Monkey. It’s okay. Come here.”

Tossing off the blankets, Millie scrambles out of bed; perching herself sideways on his lap and wrapping both arms around his neck.

“I’m so sorry, Millie.” He hasn’t used the nickname in over a year. At least not in her presence. Ever since his then ten year old daughter announced she was finished with it and just wanted to use her full name. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to break my promise. And I’m sorry. That I did. I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, daddy. I don't want anything to happen to you. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” he promises, and presses a kiss to her temple; hand pressing down on the back of her head and drawing it down to his shoulder. Tightly holding her as she cries; letting her release all the tears and the pent up fear and worry and anger. Allowing her to cling to him; her sobbing turning into whimpers interspersed with loud sniffles.

Tightly and protectively holding her until body stills and her breathing slows and evens out. Not having the heart to let her go even long after she’s fallen asleep.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT CONTACT

There was no protection against breakage except the fear of looking bad than by the hope of getting millions of dollars, and you get. Because few of us know any alternative, we have no idea what our average returns might be, and won't know for years. And it can last for months. The language offers abstractions only as a way to get a big program is to start with. The problem is the real one. Treat the first few months comforted ourselves by treating the whole thing onto the shoulders of a big company, it's good news. Actually I was being conservative. When Mark spoke at a YC dinner this winter he said he wasn't trying to start a startup.1 Whereas fundraising, when you're in a very strong position, you not only won't get that but won't get anything.2 But at least you know where these facial expressions come from.

Startup funding meant series A rounds.3 In phase 2, on top of whatever you sold in phase 1. What this means in practice is that they are compulsive negotiators who will suck up a lot of new software, because you're paying for the hardware, just as we can become wiser.4 What nerds like is other nerds.5 Often as not a startup at all.6 Maybe some aspects of professionalism are actually a net lose. Perhaps it's in the sweet spot midway between. TV.

So let that satisfy your competitiveness. Two years from now, you'll be able to use their control of the desktop to prevent, or constrain, this new generation of software?7 I wouldn't claim it's painless.8 So I recommend being good. His mom probably has it on the fridge.9 In the process we may decrease economic inequality. Convergence is probably coming, but where? The conventional wisdom in the Lisp world is that the first problem is the same reason they had to work at another job to make money.

You can't blame kids for thinking I am not like these people; I am not like these people; I am not like these people; I am not suited to this world.10 The key stage is when they're three guys operating out of an apartment, and a Web browser. Ignoring any trend that has been operating for thousands of years is dangerous. The best investors are also the most liberal. The language is built in layers.11 It took me years to grasp that. There are ideas that obvious lying around now.12 If one woodworker makes 5 chairs and another makes none, the second seems as strong as ever.13 The floors are constantly being swept clean of any loose objects that might later get stuck in something.

That's how the two are only loosely coupled.14 If you try writing Web-based applications. If you take a boring job to give your family a high standard of living, as so many people do, you don't have to force yourself to work, just as there was in the early days of microcomputers. With Web-based software will be less stressful.15 Prestige is especially dangerous to the ambitious. Tell yourself you can be in close contact with support. They say they're going to work on your projects, he can work wherever he wants on projects of his own. When you can ask the opinions of people you don't even know?

If everyone's filters have different probabilities, it will be, for users and developers both. The problem is that once you start raising money, but also connotations like formality and detachment. Hardware is free now, if your software is reasonably efficient.16 I'm an investor, the deal flow, as they were with desktop computers. You can usually call their bluff, and you willingly give him money in return for it.17 And yet all those people have to make a language that might go away, as so many programming languages do.18 Languages are for programmers, and libraries are what programmers need. The list of what you want in a startup hub. You can use whichever is best for each. Some such investors have value, but the curve is just as bad. In How to Become a Hacker, Eric Raymond describes Lisp as something like Latin or Greek—a charming college town with perfect weather and San Francisco only an hour away.

Notes

Com/spam. Again, hard work.

This is actually from the most demanding but also the fashion leaders.

Parker, William R. Digg is Slashdot with voting instead of a city's potential as a process rather than given by other people the freedom to they derive the same trick of enriching himself at the outset which founders will seem to be promising. If an investor pushes you hard to grasp this than we realize, because for times over a hundred and one or two, and since you can hire skilled people to claim retroactively I said yes.

Robert in particular. And it's particularly damaging when these investors flake, because at one point in the 1990s, and as we think. I've omitted one source: government grants. Record labels, for the next round.

If they want. The second biggest regret was caring so much on the scale that has a similar logic, one variant of the accumulator generator in other Lisp dialects: Here's an example of a running back doesn't translate to soccer. The Price of Inequality. There are people whose applications are perfect in every way, because they believe they do, so that you have to put it this way.

The problem with most of the kleptocracies that formerly dominated all the mistakes you made. More often you have to solve a lot of reasons American car companies, summer jobs are the usual way of calculating real income, they have to give up more than that total abstinence is the proper test of intelligence or wisdom. They assumed that their experience so far has trained them to get fossilized. The point where things start to rise again.

And say that's not the type who would make good angel investors.

I preferred to work like casual conversation. Stone, op. Default: 2 cups water per cup of rice. I don't know enough about big markets, why is New York, but that's what they really mean, in both Greece and China, many of the words we use have a browser and get pushed down by new arrivals.

This is a flaw here I should add that none who read this to users than where you wanted to than because they have because they had that we wouldn't have. After a bruising fight he escaped with a company, and Fred Wilson for reading drafts of this model was that professionalism had replaced money as a company grew at 1% a week for 19 years, it causes a fundamental economic shift away from large companies.

I became an employer, I mean type I startups. If Ron Conway, for example, probably did more drugs in his early twenties. If you have to go deeper into the work of selection.

Progressive tax rates will tend to get the people who get rich by creating wealth—wealth that, go talk to mediocre ones. Never attribute to malice what can be said to have invented.

27 with the founders lots of potential winners, from which they don't.

When he wanted to. Yes, I suspect the recent resurgence of evangelical Christians. Sofbot. The person who understands how to be tweaking stuff till it's yanked out of just doing things, you may as well.

Giant tax loopholes are definitely not a promising lead and should in some ways First Round Capital is closer to a later investor trying to meet people; I was genuinely worried that Airbnb, for example, if the growth is valuable, because a she is very polite and b the local builders built everything in it. Where Do College English 28 1966-67, pp. I remember are famous flops like the difference between us and the super-angels. I was not in the US since the mid 1980s.

A scientist isn't committed to rejecting it.

See Greenspun's Tenth Rule.

I realize this sounds like something cooked up, but the distribution of good startups that get funded this way is basically zero.

Most employee agreements say that intelligence doesn't matter in startups. I agree and in fact the decade preceding the war, tax rates, which has been decreasing globally. We didn't try to make money for the same work, but that they either have a bogus political agenda or are feebly executed.

Thanks to Trevor Blackwell, Marc Andreessen, Robert Morris, and Jessica Livingston for the lulz.

[kenzieam]

Destroyed - Chapter One (Chris X OC)

Rating: M

Warnings: Violence, language, drama, angst

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@iammarylastar​​​ @captstefanbrandt​​​ @jewels2876​​​ @moonbeambucky​​​​ @badassbaker​​​ @everythingisoverrated​​​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​​​ @oliviastan17​​

I KNOW I’M MISSING TAGS, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT IN

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What happens if Chris survived the bank robbery?

**************************************************************************

Five Years Later

The sun beat heavy on his bare shoulders, the skin pulling slightly with the beginnings of a sunburn. Chris tightened the final bolt then straightened, ducking out from under the reach of the truck’s hood, stretching his spine with a groan as he dropped the wrench with a clatter in with its mates then pulled a rag from his back pocket to wipe his hands.

He let the sun warm his face for a moment, eyes closed and contemplated; should he get a start on figuring out what was making the Adler’s van run so rough, or go eat lunch?

That was his life now, and he was content with it.

He’d just made up his mind, lunch first, Adler’s van second, when a new sound pierced his thoughts. Dropping his head from the sun’s warmth, he turned to look over his shoulder.

A late seventies Toyota Land Cruiser wheezed towards him. Although old, it was in decent shape, either an older restoration or just plain well cared for, but right now, it needed help. Chris watched as it wound down, seemingly like a wind-up toy petering out, and gasped one last time before stalling a few dozen feet away. All clearance lights, already dimmed, died instantly and Chris, although not a betting man, not since gambling with his life five years ago, would have laid odds on what the Toyota’s problem was.

The driver’s door opened as Chris approached and he felt a sudden jolt of electricity. Not even Erin’s kiss in that bar as they’d learned their cover had affected him like this. A woman stepped out, no… scratch that, an angel appeared.

Long auburn hair, faint strands of blond catching the sun; thick and wavy and just perfect for Chris to card his hands through. Sunglasses of probably the same vintage as the Cruiser were pushed up into that glorious mane to reveal a set of cat-shaped eyes in the most unique and breath-taking shade of lilac-grey Chris had ever seen. Faint wrinkles of worry marred the smooth heart-shaped face and then she was looking right at him and Chris felt like he’d been kicked in the guts.

“Hey- , uh. Car trouble?” He stuttered, feeling his face start to flame.

The faintest of smiles. “Yeah.”

“Sounds like your alternator.” Chris scrambled for steady ground; known terrain when the earth was practically shaking beneath his feet.

“I thought so,” she murmured, sounding resigned. She met his eyes and Chris felt a fresh jolt. “Do you think it took my battery out with it?”

A lopsided grin, the majority of people he helped had no idea what an alternator even was, let alone knew how it worked.  

“I’ll check that, if you got it here fast enough, it should be okay.”

She bit her lip for a moment. “How long will it take? I have to get to work.”

“Not long, I can have it done by this afternoon if I’ve got the part laying around.”

The woman flinched slightly. “I work late, I won’t be able to come back until tomorrow.”

“That’s fine. You said you had to work? I can take you-“ Chris was babbling and he knew it, forced himself to shut up. “I mean, if you’d like.”

The faint smile again, a hint of pink in her cheeks. Maybe he wasn’t the only one being thrown off his axis right now. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“No, it’s fine.” Chris was inexplicably terrified of losing contact with this woman and if he’d had more time to think about it, it probably would have bothered him, this sudden attachment. “I’m just heading out to lunch; I can give you a ride. Where are you going?”

Her eyes met his, that strange lilac-grey seeming to pierce into his soul. After a heartbeat, something flickered in her gaze, something Chris would swear was fear. “No, thank you.” Her voice was firm now, insistent and Chris felt an unexpected and unexplained pang of disappointment. She reached into her purse and pulled out a flip phone.

Chris stood rooted to the spot, frozen, until the woman raised her head. “Would you like me to sign anything first?” Her voice was tentative again, as if she worried she’d angered him.

Chris swallowed hard, hating that she was slipping between his fingers and at the same time, absolutely stunned that it mattered so much to him already. What the fuck is wrong with you, King? “Yeah, follow me. I’ll make out a work order.” He turned and strode into the shop, heart hammering a frantic tattoo in his chest. Reaching the counter, he grabbed the necessary paperwork and a pen. “Uh, name?”

The woman had reached the other side of the counter and now shifted her weight, almost uneasily, as if she was leery even of giving Chris her name. “Raen.” She finally answered, pronouncing it like ‘Rain’. “R A E N Casteel.”

“And a number to reach you at?”

Another pause, as if weighing her options. Chris had studied body language and received more than enough training in the F.B.I. to read this woman’s behaviour. She had been hurt by someone in the past, badly, and was either running from it still or was just permanently marked, forever cautious around strangers, especially men. His heart ached with a sudden desire to pull her close and crush away all her bad memories, show her that not all love and all men meant pain; and track down the ratfuck that had made her this way to begin with. Finally, she offered a number, chewing on her bottom lip.

“Okay,” Chris scrawled the number, mind racing as he tried to organize his thoughts. He’d never been so thrown by someone in his life, not since her. In the space of only a few minutes, he’d gone from content and hungry, his biggest decision of the day being when and what to eat, to being absolutely swept up in a mysterious woman, ready to fight for her and kiss away her sorrow. But no.

He couldn’t.

He’d fallen hard for a woman before, and it had nearly killed him. He could not do that again.

“Alright.” He cleared his throat, forcing a casual tone. “I’ll look at it and give you a call and an estimate.”

“Thank you. If I don’t answer, please leave a message.”

“Sure.”

The woman gave him one last hesitant smile, then dropped the keys on the counter, turned and almost fled the shop, the door banging closed behind her. Chris watched her hurry away and disappear around the corner.

Jesus wept.

He wanted to help her, and not just by fixing her vehicle.

As soon as his doctors discharged him from the hospital, as soon as it wasn’t abject agony to move anymore (because Chris had gone cold-turkey on all hard drugs after), he’d left the F.B.I., taking all the compensation and bonuses offered to him for his service and sacrifice. Breaking the lease on his apartment, he’d loaded his truck (not the monster he’d driven as Undercover Chris, but his own) and pointed it east, intent on leaving L.A. and California and the west coast entirely, not stopping until the icy dread that ran rampant through his veins finally ebbed and he could draw a deep breath again.

Staying in L.A. meant memories, it meant driving past old haunts and neighborhoods, remembering his shitty past and even shittier career as a Special Agent; one that had started promisingly enough, especially for a delinquent kid who had more in common with the thugs he chased than the agents who hunted them, but had cratered hard when he’d accepted his last assignment.

Deep cover, a chance to advance and take out an asshole at the same time. Dangerous, but definitely worth it; and then he’d met her.

Erin Bell, his awakening and his ruin. His rise and his downfall. In her he’d found a partner, a fellow survivor of a hellish childhood and for a time, he’d been in love. Blinded by the light, as the song went.

He’d let himself believe he could have it all, that he and Erin could give the middle finger to Silas’ gang, to the F.B.I., Sheriff’s Office and the whole fucking world and just run off together with a shit-ton of stolen money.

How wrong he’d been. At the last moment, his conscience had finally intervened, and he remembered the fright and tears in that blonde teller’s eyes as Silas had screamed at her, the abject terror in her innocent face. As he’d watched Silas drop the duffels, spewing tell-tale purple clouds and storm back into the bank, the haze had lifted from his mind and even Erin’s horrified, pleading stare hadn’t been enough to bring it back.

No one gets a fuckin’ scratch. He’d vowed, but he’d been the naïve one then.

“F.B.I.!” His words hadn’t had the desired effect, Silas hadn’t fl0undered in shock or dropped to his knees in acquiescence; it was like he’d known and, looking back, he probably had, trading Arturo for Chris at the last moment, the psycho had at least suspected someone was a mole and Chris had been the one to break cover.

The memory of the burn from the bullets was something that still woke Chris up from a dead sleep, multiple points of agony in his torso, a line of fire on his scalp. That last bullet Silas gave him, aimed as the kill shot to his skull as he lay gasping and already dying on the grimy industrial carpet of the bank; had, depending on your viewpoint, either saved or doomed Chris, missing his brain and splitting a line on his scalp instead. Silas hadn’t noticed as he’d stalked out and Chris carried that scar to this day, visible at all times because although he hated thinking about his past, he’d kept the shorn head and facial hair.

If asked, he couldn’t explain why, but maybe it really was to remember, even though he hated to. Seeing Undercover Chris, with a buzz cut and goatee everyday in the mirror was his penance. He couldn’t, he didn’t deserve to go back to the neatly-groomed man he’d been before, hair longer and fluffy and worthy of a woman running their fingers through it; he wasn’t that man anymore, for better or worse.

He’d driven until his truck had made the choice for him, quitting in this mid-sized town in New York state, lasting long enough for him to limp it into this very mechanic’s shop. A chance comment from the owner, that he needed a new mechanic, had been the catalyst for Chris to stay, at least for awhile.

As a kid, knowing through bitter experience that his own mother was an unreliable source, Chris had kept himself alive with his hands. More specifically, using his hands to fix and tinker. A few hours working on the neighbor’s broken lawnmower earned him enough to eat for a week, the car he’d traded a day’s worth of small engine work for and spent two months of weekends working on before selling to the plumber down the street helped him make it when his mother finally OD’d and he’d needed to keep himself afloat, keep the nosy housewives on the block from calling CPS and reporting a child left alone. Not that they’d have been overly concerned for Chris’ wellbeing, his mother had supported her drug habit by spreading her legs for anyone with cash or drugs, and most if not all of these women’s husbands had partaken at one time or another, meaning Chris was practically guaranteed abandonment when the real object of their fury and indignation was gone, and only her son was left to blame.

That history had been his fuel for a time, spurring him to apply for the F.B.I., encouraging and driving his ambitions to make something of himself, to be more than the fatherless son of a crack-whore.

And, for a time, he had been. He’d been more. Chosen for the assignment, entrusted with the delicate task, but he’d fucked it up, as it was in his genes to do and it still burned sometimes to think about it.

And now, working at the shop had kept him busy, tired him out enough that sometimes he was even too exhausted for the nightmares. So, when the old man had announced his retirement two years later, Chris had offered to buy the place.

For almost three years now he’d been here, running his own business, continuing and building on the shop’s reputation in town, paying Karma back with steady and honest work.

But was Raen another Erin? Another flash fire that would only leave him staggering and burned, another paradigm shift in his already jagged and torn existence?

He’d worked so hard to rebuild his life, was he ready to risk it all again?

[heartofsnark]

NSFW Alphabet: Tsuneko (Custom MC)

Note: So, finals is upon me and instead of working on things that will drastically impact my future, I’ve spent three days writing this and making moodboards. I’ve been encouraged by @otomemonogatari who’s mention never seems to fucking work, cause this is a hellsite. I’ve already posted a shit edit and a moodboard of my mc, so here’s more garbage. 

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

She’s super giggly, affectionate, and happy after sex. In general, she’s smiling and just soaking in the after glow. It’s almost like she’s cum drunk or high, she’s just smiling big and giggling as she catches her breath. She’ll be giving small pecks as she settles in to cuddles or as she’s giving after care if she was domming. She’ll want to cuddle and be affectionate, but she’s useless at talking or anything post sex. She just wants to cuddle up and pass out after. Also, she’ll be starving in the morning and eat a huge breakfast. Get her off in the morning and she’ll eat everything within a five mile radius

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On her partner, she loves hands. She’s very petite and every partner she’s had has been bigger, with bigger hands. She wants their hands everywhere. Gropes her ass, tits, finger her, she likes sucking on fingers. She likes doing that hand thing where you compare hand size. Hand holding is also weird for her, cause she’ll be a little turned on, it’s not so innocent with her

She likes her breasts. She’d never admit it, but she’s really happy with her chest. She’s roughly a d or a dd, but with a smaller rib cage measurement (she’s petite and curvy), so her chest suits her frame and they’re full and soft while still being pretty perky. She has freckles across her chest and peachy pink nipples. Her tits are just a sight. Someone should probably be touching and looking at them, all of the time.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

She likes facials and being cummed on in general, something about it feels kind of dirty and shameful. She’s never been creampied, but she does like the idea and if she’s ever with a partner she trusts enough to do it, she’d love to try it out. 

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

She has more wet dreams than she’d care to admit. She either has nightmares, wet dreams, or something that mixes the two. She doesn’t always cum in them, but waking up to soaked panties is a norm for her. She’s pretty embarrassed about it, she hates sharing a bed with people because of this.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

She’s had two past partners; both kind of complicated on and off type deals. She’s had sex fairly often in each relationship, she definitely has gotten comfortable with what she enjoys and how to please her partner. 

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Any position where she’s off the ground, her partner lifting her is nice. Both of her past partners were significantly taller than her, most people are. There’s something really exciting about feeling so powerless and not even being able to put her feet on the ground; like she’s just being used. The first time her girlfriend lifted her up and ate her out, she thought she died and went to heaven.

LACE: http://sexpositions.club/positions/231.html

BUTTERFLY: http://sexpositions.club/positions/58.html

SEESAW: http://sexpositions.club/positions/96.html

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

She’s not goofy, so much as relaxed. She tends to be a serious and anxious person, if she’s having sex with someone it means she trusts them and can actually relax around them to some degree. For her sex is meant to be something fun, if she’s not relaxed and comfortable with a person, she can’t do it. She’s doesn’t make jokes or anything, but she’s there to have a good time.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

She trims her pubic hair and tries to keep it relatively neat, but there are definite times where it’s not as well taken care as she’d like. But, most of the time she has a small neat patch of thick pubic hair. The color is the same chocolate brown as the hair on her head.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Tsuneko struggles with intimacy and being romantic. Anytime she says or does something romantic, it’s an accident. She’s more likely to say “I love you, you fucking idiot” than a kind or soft proclamation of love. During sex, she’s typically more focused on the physical aspect, feeling their body and not the love. She’ll get softer and sweeter after, but in the moment she’s just focused on everybody getting off. She also doesn’t really set up romantic moments, she’s not a candle light and rose petals kind of girl. She’s more of a, “Hey, can we fuck?” kind of girl when she wants to have sex with her partner. So, romantic.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Tsuneko masturbates pretty often, at least a couple times a week. She’s not comfortable having sex outside of a trusting relationship, but she also has a high sex drive, which means taking care of herself when she’s single. She has a box of sex toys she keeps tucked away; vibrators, dildos, bad dragon type stuff, and just a lot. She splurges on toys a lot more than she’d really care to admit. Tsuneko also like the cute ones with pink hearts and little gem stones.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Overstimulation is one for sure, she likes giving and receiving it. She loves being pushed so far into pleasure that she’s fighting to get away from stimulation, her eyes are rolling and she feels like she might pass out. It’s intense and leaves her completely satisfied after. Tsuneko also likes seeing her partner flushed and needy, knowing she’s giving them that same kind of intense rush and pleasure.

Kissing Kink might not sound like a thing, but for her it is. She goes weak for deep kisses, her face flushes and her eyes roll back. Slow, deep, wet and desperate; she love it and absolutely loses her mind. She’ll grip their clothes and grind her hips. One kiss makes her needy and wanting as she whimpers into their mouth.

Oral Fixation/Kink she wants to taste as much of her partner as she can. She wants her tongue roaming in their mouth during kisses, she wants to lick and bite down their neck and chest, leaving a trail of saliva and marks across their body. It’s not her fault that they taste so fucking good.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

She prefers somewhere private, anywhere in the home is fine as long as the door is locked. She doesn’t mind open or brightly lit areas, so long as she doesn’t have to actually worry about actually getting caught. Her absolute favorite would probably be the living room, desperate and grabbing at her partner as soon as she comes home.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Adrenaline, following exercise and anything thrilling, she wants to get laid. She doesn’t get to exercise as much as she use to do, but coming out of the gym she always wants to continue chasing that adrenaline high right into an orgasm. She’s pumped and doesn’t want the energy to go to waste.

The smell of her partner, she has a slight thing for scents. Once she’s in a relationship, her partner’s smell becomes a huge comfort to her. It grounds her and can relax her after a shitty day, as well as turn her on a bit. She’s prone to stealing her partner’s clothes so she can smell them and sometimes her hands start to wander, before she know it she’s turned on and touching herself in their clothes.

Praise/Compliments, she gets embarrassed and blushes bright red, but she fucking loves it. She’ll tell her partner to shut up and hides her face, but she’s so amazed that someone think highly of her. She just wants to kiss and jump on them because she doesn’t have to explain how emotional she feels if her mouth is busy.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything super gross, shit and piss would be a hard no for her. Also anything super dangerous, she can get into and love some rougher stuff, but like murder her or set her on fire. Breath play is hit and miss for her, she has some hang ups but also some fascinations that might not actually be healthy.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

She prefers giving. Tsuneko has an oral fixation and finds it easier to give head in either a dom or sub mindset. She can be dragged by her hair to get her face fucked or ridden, but she can also pin their hips down and tease them with her tongue. While she likes getting head, she tends to get embarrassed by someone eating her out, which means she prefers it for subbier moments. It’s hard to keep the dom composure when you’re bright red and dying, tho she’d try if they wanted her to. 

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

If she’s setting the pace it’s going to be hard and fast, but last a while. She wants to milk as many orgasm out of both herself and her partner as she can. She can do slow and sensual, but she tends to get overwhelmed and blushy if it’s too romantic.  

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

She’s definitely okay with quickies, tho they aren’t her pick. She likes going as long as possible, which kind of negates the purpose of a quickie. But, especially when she’s stressed and nice to just quickly get together to have at least one orgasm as soon as possible.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

She’s good with risk, as long as there isn’t a threat of imminent death. If she’s close enough with someone to let them see her naked and physically enter her body in some way, shape, or form then she must trust them implicitly to know they wouldn’t hurt them. As long as everything is done the safest way possible and well researched, she’s willing to try some more risque stuff.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

She doesn’t last very long, but she can go several several rounds. Tsuneko doesn’t believe in too much of a good thing when it comes to orgasms, there's always a reason to have more orgasms. She wants to go until she’s physically exhausted and her body is sore the next day. A sore clit and pussy by the end is just a sign it was a good session.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

She owns a lot of toys. Dildos, both more traditional and bad dragon types ones, with ridges and tentacle dildos. She has vibrators, buttplugs, and strap-ons within her box of toys. So, she’s obviously fine with toys on her and then it just depends on her partner. Her ex girlfriend and her used toys on each other a lot. Her ex boyfriend and her less so. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

She likes teasing during build up, seeing her partner flushed and needy is definitely attractive. But, she does hit a point where she just wants to get to business. Once she’s crossed the threshold she can’t stand teasing or being teased. She’s get whiney and start making demands if she’s a sub being teased to much. If she’s domming than basically, once she’s got their clothes off, she wants to start playing with them, maybe a bit of teasing but not much.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

She whimpers and whines more than anything. She’s definitely not the type to let out those big loud hentai/porn yells, but she’s needy and will be whimpering a lot if she’s subbing. If she’s domming, she’ll work harder to suppress her noises and focus on just talking to her sub. She knows her noises tend to not communicate control or power, so she just dirty talks more to cover it up.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

She’s the jealous type, she doesn’t like seeing people flirt with her partner and she’s crushed if her partner shows any interest. It boils down to insecurity and anxiety about being left. But, this in combination with her oral fixation leads to lots of hickies. If her partner doesn’t have any marks when the jealousy hit, she’ll spend the rest of the night covering them in love bites. If they already have a hickey, she’ll reach up and rub her thumb over the mark, reminding them both who they’re with.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Turns out, I don’t know how to describe dicks or pussies. Tsuneko is petite, so she’s probably a bit tight, but she gets wet really easily and gets soaked, which helps with bigger things. Like her nipples and lips, the inside has a very soft peachy pink color. Her outer lips are a little puffy, just a bit of her inner lips peek through. Her clit is a bit small, but swells up a fair amount when she’s aroused,

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Her sex drive is pretty high, she’s not hard to arouse and if she’s in a relationship, she basically is always down to sleep with her partner. She very rarely turns her partner down, if she’s awake she’d be cool with fucking her partner. She doesn’t mind being awoken to sex either, finding someone she feel comfortable sharing any of her life with let alone her body is rare, so once she has them she just wants to be with them constantly.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Tsuneko spends some time snuggling and giving little kisses, but it only lasts a minute or two before she’s falling asleep against them. But, she cuddles in her sleep too, she clings like a koala. She’ll try to stay awake for longer if her partner wants to chat, but she’s dozing off in the middle of their sentence. It’s just not gonna work. Don’t waste your time talking to her while she’s still cum drunk, she’s just gonna giggle and pass out.

[jwisdomhheartmmoon]

Oumasai Week Day 2

@oumasaiweek

Note: I’m sorry for being very late! I hope I can continue to do more days in late time! 

Warning: Crappy Grammar Errors! It’s R-15 at the times. It might hint on NDRV3 spoiler in chapter 5.

Love/Hate:

A situation appeared to be a depression than they thought so and everything was so pretty mess up. Some survivors sat alone in their own room, didn’t know what to do themselves and felt the killing game might never end. Wishing someone like Kaito would bring a positive energy out of their body, but unfortunately, he was captured by a liar man like Ouma. Ouma revealed himself to be a mastermind and warned them would likely get killed if they plan to try to save Kaito. His malicious laughter couldn’t be forgotten and become their nightmare. There now was a detective boy, Saihara was lying down on his own bed depression who couldn’t sleep and his depression got to increase. His hair got messy and his eyes got a black circle when he woke up while still too tired. Thinking about what Ouma revealed everything about being the mastermind and the truth about killing game, is that it? Yes, Ouma was a pretty suspicious person since Saihara couldn’t catch up with his lies, but Ouma possibly didn’t be a too oblivious mastermind. A gloomy boy couldn’t help but thought it might a lie for a good reason, but at the same time, worried about what he will do with Kaito. Is Ouma really mastermind at all since he stated the truth about everything? Will he kill us when we will try to save Kaito? What’s the purpose of a killing game?!?!?!?! If Ouma going to hurt, Saihara would surely kill him for it! Murdering him isn’t an answer, but just….Kaito……was……

That was enough, his headache began since he thought himself too much so he had to get relax although his body didn’t feel like it. What will he do other beside sleeping? He tried to get sleep right now and his eyes slowly closed…….

In the dark blank background, it was like someone was lost and couldn’t find anywhere either anyone. No one was there to help them. It was Saihara’s thought while he was still sleeping. Is it possible his dream? No, it was just his dark thoughts in Saihara’s feeling right now. How long can they keep to play a killing game? Is that game supposed to end like this when mastermind appeared to? It didn’t make the sense at all…..forget it. He didn’t want to do it anymore. He started to think the way is…….end…..his……..life……

It would better to die than keep to able be alive and suffer so long until someone voiced that interrupted him, “Hey! Wake up!”

Who is it? His eyes started to get open to see the blurry slowly become so clearly to reveal be someone had curly purple hair. “Oh no, Saihara-chan had a black circle under his eyes! You must be so boring for stay your room longer!”

Oh, that was Ouma. Wait a minute. Is Ouma really here in his room?!???!!?! Is it’s dream, right? Saihara pinched on Ouma’s cheek and Ouma whined, “Ow! You’re so mean, Saihara-chan!”

It wasn’t a dream at all. Saihara started to get jumpy and back away from Ouma, “What are you doing here?!?!? How did you enter my room??!?!?!”

“Boo. You can’t forget it. Remember how I did it to Angie’s research room?” Ouma tried to exercise on Saihara’s memory and pointed out there. Saihara realized he forgot Ouma did lockpicking it once he looked at his door. He asked so coldly what Ouma want to. Ouma claimed it was nothing and maybe it was a lie.

“If you want to do nothing, go play outside and do what you want with a killing game,” Saihara said so harshly and didn’t want to see him again.

“Awww come on. Be nice to me. Or maybe you hate me” Ouma complained about how Saihara treated him like that.

Saihara was so frozen once he heard Ouma said a word, hate and was unsure if it would be the correct answer. He took his blanket covered himself in his bad mood, wanted to be left alone, asked so politely Ouma to leave his room. Ouma pouted at Saihara won’t play with him, “Fine. I’m going to leave now. However……”

Saihara got a bad feeling once he heard a word, “However” and Ouma would always do unexpected something. A mischievous boy pushed a detective boy against his own bed. Saihara looked up at Ouma lick his lip that gave him feel so goosebumps and asked him what he will do. A leader grinned at him, stated he wants to do his last thing, and his finger touched on Saihara’s smooth lips. Oh, no……....a spider…….caught…..a…bug. Ouma’s hand slowly moved on Saihara’s lips to a chest, but he grabbed on Ouma’s wrist, “It’s like I let you do what you want to, mastermind!”

Saihara's sharply glaring eyes against on Ouma’s heart, but Ouma hadn’t shown his emotion, “So? Do you believe in me saying it? Hahahahhahahahahahahahahha. I never expect it! I will give you a deal. Do you want to know what’s happening to your space-man friend? I will tell you if you let me do it with you.”

Of course, Saihara didn’t want to let him do it but worried about Kaito although suspicious Ouma might lie again. Oh well, he gave up since he couldn’t keep up with Ouma’s game so he nodded himself and let go of Ouma’s hand. Ouma touched on Saihara’s beautiful cheek, his lips against Saihara’s in his happy mood. Did Ouma play with Saihara’s feeling at all as he seemed rather be happy instead “evil”? Saihara was surprised when his tongue feels so weird from Ouma makeup on his kiss! They finally have done their kiss, Saihara’s body began to get weirder like he couldn’t move on his own, had drool on his lips, and looked up at Ouma’s facial expression.

“Be prepare for it”, “king” boy wipe his drool off his lips, his dominate power turned on in the sense of his power come inside his body. A detective boy now couldn’t escape from Ouma captured him well.

Later, sometimes passed they did it with each other on the bed in their heat and unpleasant moment at the same time. It could have heard Saihara’s moan voice that could feel so good but covered his mouth with his hand. A short boy asked politely him to cover off his mouth so he would like to hear out his pleasant voice, but Saihara shook his head and refused it with his glared coldly at him. Ouma asked another question if Saihara hate him at all, “Because I took your space-man away from you?”

Saihara quietly didn’t answer it, unsure about how he feeling about a liar like Ouma and was so confused while still covered his mouth. Ouma became so impatient, insisted Saihara answer his question, and voiced so scary “Is he’s worthy friend to you? Did you trust him at all? Remember I told you, it might be dangerous to work together?”

Looking at his scary facial expression and behavior, Saihara never saw him act more childish like a spoiled child. Ouma finally shown his emotion not acting, is it Ouma’s true color? It was so hard to tell him being honest show and his mask “liar” taken off since he never told about his past. He started to get frustrated with Ouma kept to insist it, didn’t know what to think anymore, and had to express his feeling out, “Yes! I hate you. You so jerk! You’re always alone in the end! You never let anyone get so close with you!! I never understand why you prefer a lie instead of the truth! Kaito was there for me during my tough time, pulled up me, and supported me during the class trial! The truth is I admitted I think you might not a bad person at all, but you kidnapped Kaito, I get it back! Why…..you……I…hate….you...Ouma-kun….”

He started to crying, was very scared for Kaito, and didn’t know what to do anymore, but he noticed Ouma became so quiet. His tears fell down his cheeks that surprised Saihara. Did it hurt Ouma’s feeling from Saihara said “hate”? His frown turns into an evil smile, he slowly finally started to malicious laugh scared much Saihara never heard before, “Hahahahahahhahahahahhahahaha!!!! Wow! I’m right in the end, he really hates me! I can’t believe a man who had strongly believable become your friend!”

Ouma’s wide eyes become more dark tone which is scary make Saihara’s body was shaken more than he thought. A short boy touched on Saihara’s shoulder, praised on how smooth skins he had, wondered how Saihara take care of his well. Ouma told him to be prepared to make him won’t forget “hate”. Feeling bad about what Ouma will do next. Saihara felt so sharply on his owns shoulder as it was really bad hurtful from Ouma bite it so hard! When he has done it, Saihara’s shoulder had a black bruise and red almost a blood could come out. Ouma pointed it out and was so excited, “I now marked mine on you will never forget a person like me you hate.”

Now Saihara couldn’t erase his mark even it will disappear soon and his mind got struck about Ouma. He started to fall into an unconscious, must ask a few questions he needs to know, “Please tell me Kaito will be okay. Why you do it with me?”

Ouma stared at him, seem to refuse to answer his questions, but did it, “Oh well, I will tell you the truth this time whatever you believe in me or not. Don’t worry, I won’t kill a spaceman and will bring him back to you if possible.”

Saihara’s eyes slowly closed as he struggled to keep to open his eyes, wanted to keep listening to Ouma said words, but he fell into unconscious right now before Ouma was going to explain his reasons. Ouma looked at Saihara slept now, talked with himself how’s the bummer for him need to hear out his true reason, but he was glad and it wasn’t like him being honest at all. When it was over, Ouma tucked Saihara in his bed, fixed on his clothes, and was going toward the door.  Ouma turned over his shoulder and looked at Saihara was lying down so peace on the bed. He remembered on Saihara spoken of harsh words.

It could lead….to….werid…..his….feelig…..was…so….painful when he touched his chest inside so tightly. Is it’s his true feeling? Who’s know He grinned, “I didn’t understand my feeling, huh. I’m a pretty complicated person, hehehehehe nishishi. I can certainly tell you my reasons you won’t hear out. I’m so jealous of Kaito, I saw you spend time a lot with Kaito and Maki. I can’t believe you hate me in the end, I want to make the clear with you, but I can’t. I have to stick to my plan.”

Ouma turned back from the door, walked toward him, touched Saihara’s cheek and kissed on Saihara’s forehead. He finally let his emotion out and crying, “I’m sorry, my beloved Saihara-chan. I love you. It’s the truth. Good-bye.”

Ouma left Saihara’s bed toward the door, opened it, turned over his shoulder to look at a beautiful boy one more time, and closed the door. He really left Saihara in complete so confused and dark at the same time, it felt something tell him couldn’t stop Ouma at all. Saihara thought it was a dream he once heard Ouma’s last words………..

[hellyeahomeland]

“Paean to the People” | Directed by Lesli Linka Glatter

“Paean to the People” picks up right where “All In” left off. Carrie and Anson are speeding through the streets of Budapest Moscow Budapow. In this opening shot, their car is the only one on the bridge, adding to the feeling of just how on their own they are, without diplomatic cover, as they try to distract Yevgeny long enough to get Simone on that plane.

The arrangement in this shot!! Everyone whose face is visible is serving so much face. Simone is like, “don’t look at me.” Bennet (with facial hair!) is like, “are you fucking kidding me?” Doxie (with some pretty great side eye) is like, “I am NOT getting stuck in Budapow.” And Ms. Pink Scarf is like, “What am I doing here again? What is my job?” You and us both, Pink Scarf. You and us both.

Let’s give a full round of snaps to Sandy this season. She brought the sassy realness and Russian know-how the whole dang time. This show needs all the female energy it can get and this shot of her pulling out the chair for Clint’s “time out” is incredible. We’re not sure if she’ll be back for season eight, but if she won’t, we will miss her so.

Both Carrie and Anson know what’s at stake in this mission but in this moment, it’s Carrie who has to convince Anson how far she can and will go. We hate to say it, but the moment of recognition shared here between them screams “America First” when Quinn tells Carrie to get in the car and stay down. If seven seasons of Homeland have taught us one thing, it’s that these people all follow the same code: Get in. Get down. Shut up. Mission over self.

IJLTP.

We will hand it to the Homeland props department for getting the birthday right on Simone’s fake Carrie Mathison passport (it’s April 5, 1979). But!! Her middle name is spelled Anne, not Ann.

Simone spent a lot of time obscuring her face from the Russian officials in that car, but this glimpse of her expression after she asks Saul if he’s really going to leave Carrie--the Carrie who CLIMBED A FUCKING ROOF LIKE TWENTY MINUTES AGO TO GET TO SIMONE--in Budapow. That is a pursed lip and evil eye if we ever saw ‘em.

...And, of course, the guilt is written all over his face.

We are CACKLING at the dude in the white jacket in the background. We are not sure if he is just a really bad extra or some random stranger who saw Claire Danes in a Budapest train station and needed to share else he was met with a chorus of “pics or it didn’t happen” from his friends.

Sara and Doxie have the same birthday (November 4), which further solidifies that he is her forever man and the best Carrie Angel of them all.

We talked about the strong “America First” vibes above and the whole sequence of Carrie running through the train station is giving us heavy “The Smile” vibes, too. After seven seasons, it’s difficult for some moments not to feel like explicit callbacks from earlier episodes. After all, maybe looking at a mirror in a crowded marketplace is just Carrie’s favorite American spy woman move. But this shot, and Carrie’s smile later, are so specific that we think the homage is intentional.

IJLTP, II.

Real talk though, you really get a sense of the loneliness of the office here, as Beau faces away, back to the camera, surrounded by those heavy curtains.

Lesli Linka Glatter is a choreographer by training and she’s talked before about the diligent preparation she does before directing a Homeland episode. In sequences like these--filmed, acted, and edited with such specific clarity--that training and preparation come through loud and clear. Every shot has a purpose and we’re exposed to all angles of the action. It really is like a dance.

Here, the slow reveal of Yevgeny coming around the corner ratchets up the stakes as Carrie waits, a sitting duck in the locked room.

And here’s our duck. What’s so great about thrilling and suspenseful action sequences like this is the human moments they’re contrasted with. We can see the fear in her face as she contemplates whether to go down in a blaze of glory. She’s not made of steel. She may only have seconds left to live. She may be a hero but she is not a superhero.

Yevgeny delivers a BudaPOW (sorry, we couldn’t resist) with his punch to Carrie, but her moment of defeat is quickly transformed into one of triumph with the news that Saul and his “package” have achieved lift-off.

This smile, guys. Damn. Claire Danes is in a class all her own.

Delirious, glorious laughter. When was the last time we saw Carrie laugh?

It doesn’t last long, of course. The first rule of Homeland is that if Carrie smiles, shit’s about to get fucked up. “At least she had this moment,” we all whisper quietly to ourselves.

The shots of Saul looking down from his window at the city of Budapow--Carrie in it God knows where, the proverbial needle in the haystack--are powerful. He has left her there. And now he has to get her back.

We love this shot of everyone arrayed out like this, watching Simone’s testimony in The Room Where It Happened. Though we would like to point out that it’s hard to take Bennet seriously without facial hair. Dude, it’s 5 o’clock somewhere. Get on it! (Also there are so many VESTS this season! We count two in this shot alone.)

IJLTP, III.

This is the sequence of shots after Keane says she’ll do everything she can to get Carrie back. There was some chatter about going to Anson first (looking pensive), then Saul (looking sorrowful), and finally Max, who looks the most doubtful and suspect of them all (and, of course, almost hidden behind the others in the back). Sara actually thinks closing with Max is the most powerful. He’s been by Carrie’s side, through thick and thin, all seven seasons of this show. And after the trauma of losing Quinn last season, it’s easy to see how history may be replaying itself for him, this time in agonizing slow-motion.

So many “Pilot” vibes. This show loves playing with reversals and bookends, and having Carrie be the prisoner now is one of the most stinging of them all.

Sara would just like to say that she even looks beautiful in a Russian prison.

The book Carrie’s reading here is called Where Avon into Severn Flows, which is actually a short story by the American writer Harold Frederic and part of his book The Deserter and Other Stories: A Book of Two Wars.

Here is the opening paragraph of the story:

“A boy of fifteen, clad in doublet and hose of plain cloth dyed a sober brown, sat alone at one end of a broad, vaulted room, before a writing table. The strong, clear light which covered him and his work fell through an open window, arched at the top and piercing a stone wall of almost a yard's thickness. Similar openings to the right and left of him marked with bars of light a dozen other places along the extended, shelf-like table, where writers had now finished their day's labor, and, departing, had left covered horns of ink and cleansed utensils behind them. But the boy's task lagged behind fulfilment, and mocked him.”

It’s easy to see the parallels. Carrie is held in a Russian prison, also dressed in plain, ill-fitting clothes. She sits in a broad, vaulted room with a plain writing table nearby. Carrie might have won the battle, getting Simone back to the United States, but here in this cell, her success must feel fleeting and the irony of her current circumstance mocking.

Some major “There’s Something Else Going On” vibes here. (Sorry, we’re just gonna point out all our vibes.)

We’re just gonna call this pose from Costa Ronin the Yevgeny Lean (#IJustLikeHowHeLeans). On a more serious note, some credit needs to be given to Ronin, who brought Yevgeny to life and made him feel like a fully lived-in person. His habit of leaning back, feet propped out before him, is just one small example, but it’s representative of the care and attention he put into crafting such a three-dimensional portrait of one of the most interesting villains in the series’ history.

IJLTP, IV. 

And that IJLTP shot of Carrie, alone in that Russian prison with the stakes (i.e., her mental health) now clearly defined, is followed by the rather astounding hero’s welcome that awaits Keane back in the West Wing. This reminds Sara of those tunnels that sports teams would form after a game for everyone to run through. And now Sara wishes Keane had run through the tunnel, high-fiving everyone.

It’s Tie Color Time! Note that Beau is now back to the blue tie, having resumed his position as Vice President.

Talk about sweet karma. The scene between Paley and Keane is remarkable for a few reasons. First, Paley does all the talking. Keane doesn’t even give him the respect that comes with a response. He lowers himself to his knees, literally begging for her mercy.

Keane is often shot from below, highlighting her stance and power. But here, it’s a point-of-view shot. We see what Paley sees: this woman, whom Saul once claimed could not “rise above her own vindictiveness,” closing in on him, a bird of prey who’s finally made her catch. And then she spits in his face.

The Washington Monument, which sits due east of the Reflecting Pool, adds great dramatic effect to this beautifully shot (and scored) moment after Keane leaves her meeting with Paley. Despite the monument’s great size, in these shots its height matches Keane’s, which is likely intentional.

As the monument was being completed. Joseph R. Chandler, a Freemason and member of the House of Representatives said:

“No more Washingtons shall come in our time ... But his virtues are stamped on the heart of mankind. He who is great in the battlefield looks upward to the generalship of Washington. He who grows wise in counsel feels that he is imitating Washington. He who can resign power against the wishes of a people, has in his eye the bright example of Washington.”  

As she drives back through the DC streets at night one last time as President, she’s clearly at a crossroads. History has its eyes on her. (We will also continue to make ALL the Hamilton references.)

We’re not sure if this moment was scripted or if it was a choice by Claire in the moment. Either way, what’s happening? If she praying? Thanking God? Carrie’s relationship with religion and atonement has been basically nonexistent since the show devoted attention to it in season five. We wonder if, like Brody before her, she may be discovering--or rediscovering, as it were--it while in captivity, a salve for her inevitable isolation.

A few things to note from this headstone:

It’s the tenth anniversary of Andrew’s death.

Are we really meant to believe Keane is old enough to have had a kid in 1979? Elizabeth Marvel was born in 1969, which means she’s playing at least ten years older than she actually is. Sara does not buy this, but whatever.

Andrew is born mere weeks before Carrie, which in hindsight kind of shifts the relationship between Keane and Carrie in season six. Carrie really could be Keane’s daughter, and if Carrie indeed did see her in some small part as a mother figure, it frames her conflict with Saul last season--and the battle for Carrie’s loyalty--in an even sharper light.

This is just a gorgeous light, the rows of headstones filling the bottom half of the screen and the large, overgrown tree framing Keane in the top half. It’s her figurative “moment alone in the shade” (figurative because she’s not really in the shade, but y’all catch our drift).

Again, it was impossible to properly capture the moment when Carrie congratulates Aleksandr through anything other than a gif. The quiver in her voice, her attempt at a forced smile. After this moment, the lighting in the room shifts--she is literally forced to see the light, as the direness of her circumstances are fully revealed.

This is the last time we see Carrie before the “seven months later” coda, so now’s as good a time as any to talk about the truly tremendous work she did this season.

From the opening episode, Claire took us on the tenuous, tumultuous journey of Carrie’s war with her own mind and the battles waged within. Every episode, every moment was brought to life with exacting precision. Sometimes we loved her, and sometimes we hated her, but Claire’s commitment to every moment never wavered, whether it was seducing Dante, having nightmarish visions of her bloodied daughter, or inching her way across that GRU roof.

The throughline of this season of Carrie’s mental health makes this moment and the final scene land with even more crushing weight than they otherwise would. When Carrie experiences a breakdown so harrowing and frightening, she goes to extreme lengths to restore her own sanity. In the last three episodes of the season, we see just how invaluable that sanity is--her mind is both her greatest asset and greatest liability.

Carrie knows here what’s about to happen. She stares, eyes wide open, almost as if she’s glimpsing into the future at what lies before her. There’s no safety net this time, no pills or ECT to pull her back or hit the reset button. But for as much as she knows that she’ll lose her mind (in every sense of the word, it turns out), there is also great uncertainty, looking into “the bottom of a black hole with no walls.”

Something we find super interesting about this sequence is just how many perspectives LLG gives us of Keane’s speech, whether it’s Wellington’s from inside the Oval, Saul in his office, or Yevgeny in Budapow. Again, LLG’s choreography background comes shining through. For almost the entire speech, we see her presidency--and what turns out to be its final moments--through everyone’s lens except her own.

LLG doesn’t shoot Keane center-frame, without some extra filter of a screen, until the very end of the scene, after the speech is over. Keane talks earlier about wanting to speak directly to the American people, from the heart, but what we actually get is everyone looking at screens, at the filtered version of this woman and her office, a metaphor if ever there was one for her short-lived presidency.

As her speech (which, like Washington’s Farewell Address, focuses on the need to not let political parties and divisions tear apart the country) nears its end, we do see Keane center-frame. But, again, it’s a shot of her center-frame on the screen, and her appearance is somehow altered and filtered.

(A quick note about her wardrobe: Keane starts the day grieving for her son at Arlington, and she keeps on the same black clothing during her speech, a signal of the impending end of her presidency. The dangling earrings are also an interesting choice, and an unusual one for Keane, who usually wears studs or conservative-looking hoops. Like Carrie in “Species Jump,” this is as close as she’ll get to “letting her hair down,” and the unconventional jewelry choice conveys the peace she’s found with her decision.)

And now the lights come down on Keane and her presidency, in every sense of the word.

The dynamics of this scene remind Sara of the end of “The Choice,” when Saul sees Carrie in that hall of dead bodies after thinking she’d died in the explosion. They shared a moment of recognition at the end of that scene, standing in stark contrast to what unfolds here.

Here’s our first good shot of Carrie, and there’s a lot to take in. The swollen face and unkempt hair are startling, to say the least. Under her bulky black coat she’s wearing white (you can see a peak of her shirt here but her pants--not visible in this shot--are also white), indicating she’s been in an asylum.

The season opened with Carrie running on a treadmill, athletic and strong, the buzzy chords of jazz blaring in our ears. It ends with our heroine on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. She’s feeble and unsteady, running away from the Russian guards and straight past Saul. We hear jazz again, but it’s slower and somehow weightier.

As Saul gently brushes the hair from her face and looks into her eyes, calling her name, she is seemingly unable to recognize him. Her eyes dart from side to side, up and down, but his remain steady on her, and we can see (and share) the concern and devastation etched on his face.

She’s searching, and so is he.

[placetobenation]

6 months into the COVID-19 pandemic and this is the week that the wrestling world was hit all around with positive tests. Most affected seems to be NXT and AEW. While no cases have been publicly confirmed on the NXT, RAW or SmackDown roster this week by WWE, reports are that there was quite a bit of movement with storylines being rewritten and some superstars not being in attendance. Meanwhile, on AEW, #1 contender Lance Archer is out due to the coronavirus.

It’s hard to believe that the NXT #1 contender’s match was supposed to be KUSHIDA vs. Cameron Grimes, Bronson Reed, Timothy Thatcher and Kyle O’Reilly. No disrespect intended to those 5, but the lack of superstar talent is quite striking. It would be hard to believe that the folks running NXT (yes, you Triple H and Shawn Michaels), wanted it to be that way. Unfortunately, there’s no transparency in the WWE, so we’ll never really know. The WWE should be very transparent and honest when dealing with the pandemic and its effects on the product. But then again, this is the same company that still hasn’t come clean on why Roman Reigns wasn’t around during WrestleMania and the months afterwards.

The other thing that’s really bugging me these days about the WWE? Disqualifications. It’s lazy booking and the WWE is relying on it 2-3 times a show these days. It’s unnecessary. Please stop!

Finally, what the hell was that with RETRIBUTION! Yikes! We’ll discuss more in our RAW recap! But first, some PPV’s to attend to first.

Clash of Champions – UPDATED CARD

WWE Championship Ambulance Match: Drew McIntyre vs. Randy Orton

WWE Universal Championship Match: Roman Reigns vs. Jey Uso

SmackDown Women’s Championship Match: Bayley vs. Nikki Cross

WWE Women’s Championship Match: Shayna Baszler and Nia Jax vs. The Riott Squad

Smackdown Tag Team Championship Match: Cesaro and Shinsuke Nakamura vs. Lucha House Party

RAW Tag Team Championship Match: The Street Profits vs. Angel Garza and Andrade

WWE Undisputed Intercontinental Championship Ladder Match: Jeff Hardy vs. AJ Styles vs. Sami Zayn

WWE United States Championship Match: Bobby Lashley vs. Apollo Crews

RAW Women’s Championship Kickoff Show Match: Asuka vs. Zelina Vega

NXT:TakeOver – UPDATED CARD

NXT Championship Match: Finn Balor vs. Kyle O’Reilly

NXT Women’s Championship Match: Io Shirai vs. Candice LeRae

NXT North American Championship Match: Damian Priest vs. Johnny Gargano

Star of the Week:

Alexa Bliss – A rockstar to be sure! Whether it’s been as a face or a heel, in the ring, out of the ring, on the mic or just being there, Miss Bliss is fabulous! And now, with this tweener chartacter with influence from The Fiend, she’s rocking it in every way! The glances and facial expressions are on point and we can’t wait to see where it goes next!

RAW

RESULTS

RAW Tag Team Championship #1 Contender Match: Andrade & Angel Garza defeated Humberto Carrillo & Dominik Mysterio and Seth Rollins & Murphy

Non-title WWE Championship Match: Drew McIntyre defeated Keith Lee via DQ

RAW Women’s Championship #1 Contender Match: Zelina Vega defeated Mickie James

Apollo Crews defeated Cedric Alexander

RAW Underground: Dolph Ziggler defeated Arturo Ruas

Non-title Women’s Championship Match: Nia Jax & Shayna Baszler defeated Natalya & Lana

RAW Underground: Riddick Moss defeated Erik

Non-title RAW Women’s Championship Match: Asuka defeated Peyton Royce

RAW Underground: Braun Strowman defeated Dabba-Kato

The Hurt Business vs. RETRIBUTION went to a no-contest

#RETRIBUTION has spoken on #WWERaw. pic.twitter.com/aKMKxThhSG

— WWE (@WWE) September 22, 2020

Straight-up POWER from MACE and T-BAR.#WWERaw #RETRIBUTION pic.twitter.com/WTSZdYyweK

— WWE (@WWE) September 22, 2020

There was absolutely NOTHING I loved about RAW this week. So utterly disappointed in how the go-home show before Clash of Champions was laid out. From the start of the show where it’s announced that RETRIBUTION has contracts to their ridiculous names (T-BAR, Mace & Slapjack) and masks (childish!) to the cluster of a chaos #!* that was the main event, it has now set up RETRIBUTION for utter failure! The five main members of Dominki Dijokovic, Dio Maddin, Shane Thorne, Mia Yim and Mercedes Martinez has been undercut and has little or no chance to survive without a major happening at Clash. How do they have credibility when they called out WWE superstars for their contracts and greed and then they agree to a WWE contract? Ridiculous! How do they have any credibility when they can’t even take on the Hurt Business to get a victory in their first match? Absurd! Can you imagine the NWO or Hall/Nash not going over at Bash at the Beach?

"@reymysterio … you are NOT THE FATHER!" – @WWERollins

#WWERaw pic.twitter.com/YBaQf6831a

— WWE (@WWE) September 22, 2020

Seth Rollins dragging up a redux of the Eddie Guerrero vs. Rey Mysterio feud from the past with news that maybe Rey’s not the father of Dominik is tired, old rehash. Then, Rollins send his wrath towards daughter Aalyah. The writing is on the wall my friends, Aalyah will be a minion with the Monday Night Messiah before we know it.

A fired-up @RandyOrton is READY to face @DMcIntyreWWE in an #AmbulanceMatch at #WWEClash of Champions THIS SUNDAY for the #WWEChampionship!#WWERaw pic.twitter.com/HrfM44973M

— WWE (@WWE) September 22, 2020

Elsewhere, Drew McIntyre vs. Keith Lee has been a utter waste of time as a backdrop for Randy Orton, who continues to be doing some of his best work of his 20-year career. That promo, including a nice catch of himself, was spot-on. I like him going over this Sunday!

What a HUGE victory for @BraunStrowman in #RawUnderground!#WWERaw pic.twitter.com/S4Bj3evqMn

— WWE (@WWE) September 22, 2020

RAW Underground had its moments with Braun Strowman having a good night and even Dolph Ziggler getting a victory. The right team, Andrade & Angel Garza got the tag team title match against The Street Profits Sunday night.

All in all, not an enjoyable night for me for RAW. A ton of wasteful opportunities.

NXT

RESULTS

NXT Women’s Championship #1 Contender Battle Royale: Candice LeRae wins shot at Io Shirai at NXT: TakeOver

Tommaso Ciampa defeated Jake Atlas

Danny Burch & Roderick Strong defeated Fabian Aichner & Raul Mendoza to win a spot in #1 Contender Match for NXT Tag Team Championship

Non-title NXT North American Championship Match: Damian Priest defeated Austin Theory

Ridge Holland defeated Antonio DeLuca

Gauntlet Eliminator Match: Kyle O’Reilly defeated Bronson Reed, Kushida, Cameron Grimes & Timothy Thatcher to win shot at NXT Championship

Best show of the week!

G O L D E N P R O P H E C Y The winner of the AMAZING 'Gauntlet Eliminator' and challenging @FinnBalor at #NXTTakeOver is @KORcombat! #WWENXT pic.twitter.com/C4fcbLvrYJ

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) September 24, 2020

Kudos to Kyle O’Reilly. i don’t think anyone saw him running the table and winning the Gauntlet Eliminator Match. Plus, let’s be honest, no one saw him being in the match to begin with. But, having said that, while the five-man match lacked star firepower, the match itself was very good. I, personally, saw KUSHIDA going over but it’s nice to see O’Reilly got his day in the sun vs. Finn Balor at NXT:TakeOver. It’ll be an enjoyable match with a predictable outcome. Time will tell just how much COVID-19 affected the booking here and who was available, but NXT, as usual, made the best of a bad situation.

We see you, @KacyCatanzaro!

CC: @TrueKofi @NaomiWWE @TheRealMorrison #WWENXT #BattleRoyal pic.twitter.com/Rz49y8gOco

— WWE (@WWE) September 24, 2020

The Women’s Battle Royale for a shot at the NXT Women’s Championship was entertaining as hell! Yes, I”m a Kacy Catanzaro mark, so it was fun to see her make the final four with all the fancy footwork and antics that should make her an annual entrant into the Royal Rumble. Having Candice LeRae go over to win it to makes absolute sense! Now, with LeRae having a title match at NXT:TakeOver and husband Johnny Gargano ready to face Damian Priest for the NXT North American Championship has the makings of a double-gold night for the Gargano Way. Maybe we’ll get an Edge/Lita type celebration.

What a supportive husband.

#CoupleGoals #WWENXT #BattleRoyal @CandiceLeRae @JohnnyGargano pic.twitter.com/83CsVcET8z

— WWE NXT (@WWENXT) September 24, 2020

Squash matches for Tommaso Ciampa and Ridge Holland made sense. Plus, having Fandango make an interesting #1 Contender match of his own for the tag team titles was out of nowhere, but was needed with the unavailable superstars.

The TakeOver is theirs… but 𝘸𝘩𝘰 are they?

#WWENXT pic.twitter.com/KaAy6QABtM

— WWE (@WWE) September 24, 2020

Who is they? What former NXT Champion is the Insurgent coming back at NXT:TakeOver? Is it Bobby Roode, Bo Dallas, Ember Moon

SMACKDOWN

RESULTS

Triple Threat Match: Sami Zayn defeated AJ Styles & Jeff Hardy

Shinsuke Nakamura defeated Gran Metalik

King Corbin defeated Matt Riddle

Lacey Evans defeated Alexa Bliss by DQ

LOVED IT:

"Uce vs. Uce. Cuz vs. Cuz." THIS SUNDAY at #WWEClash of Champions! #SmackDown Jey @WWEUsos @WWERomanReigns @HeymanHustle pic.twitter.com/ipUCRebFQj

— WWE (@WWE) September 26, 2020

"You're gonna take the payday. You're gonna take the ass whooping that comes with it but you will NEVER take my title." – @WWERomanReigns /w @HeymanHustle to Jey @WWEUsos #SmackDown pic.twitter.com/Tt2M1kNY4R

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) September 26, 2020

Family affair – Roman Reigns being blunt that “It will never be you, because it will always be me” line was killer. But, Jey Uso’s reaction, with emotion and desparation was fantastic. I’m invested! Short, sweet and no in-ring fisticuffs. And then, one Superman punch and the tonuge-lashing from the Universal Champion. When Reigns said he’ll feed my family with this title and told Uso that he should take the payday and the ass-whooping, he’s not far from the truth. The most impactful 3:00 of Friday night.

#SmackDown pic.twitter.com/uk3Bl9SYwl

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) September 26, 2020

Alexa Bliss – First off, the match with Lacey Evans was very good. Secondly, the addition of The Fiend’s red lighting causing Bliss to absolutely lose control was fitting. Then, the look from Bliss to Roman Reigns on the ramp was the cherry on the SmackDown sundae. Delicious!

Wasted effort:

LHP feud – We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again, NO ONE wants to see a feud between the members of the Lucha House Party. Wasting it while in the midst of a tag team championship squirmish with Cesaro & Shinsuke Nakamura is just a pure waste of everyone’s time.

Otis vs. The Miz – Really not feeling the lawsuit vibe here at all. I’d rather see either team in the mix for the tag team championships.

Good stuff:

Matt Riddle – Every time he’s in the ring, this time in a losing Payback rematch against King Corbin, Riddle doesn’t disappoint. He’s on the rise and good things are ahead for the Bro Show.

A sign of things to come this Sunday at #WWEClash of Champions?? #ICTitle@SamiZayn picks up the win on #SmackDown! pic.twitter.com/rWKXRkRynY

— WWE (@WWE) September 26, 2020

Triple Threat IC – While I’m not a fan of having the same 3 guys face off in a match two days before a PPV, Sami Zayn and AJ Styles put their best foot forward for Sunday’s Intercontinental Title Ladder Match at Clash of Champions. It makes me thing Jeff Hardy and his new contract will walk away with all the gold!

𝒰𝒩𝒯𝒪𝒰𝒞𝐻𝒜𝐵𝐿𝐸.

The mystery continues… #SmackDown pic.twitter.com/W4MZjonauD

— WWE (@WWE) September 26, 2020

Untouchable – So, if reports are true that it’s really Carmella and her tattoo in these vignettes, it’s not a bad thing. I just wonder if they give reality to her relationship with Corey Graves too. BTW, I didn’t think anyone still owned a polaroid camera these days!

Bayley – As usual. Solid and getting better on the mic. Can’t wait for the Sasha feud to go full blown.

Parting shots:

#RIPAnimal.

#SmackDown pic.twitter.com/Dwt2U6z1AZ

— WWE (@WWE) September 26, 2020

RIP John Laurinaitis – Road Warrior Animal passed away much too young this week at age 60. The Road Warriors, Hawk and Animal, changed the sport and tag team wrestling forever. Long live the Road Warrior pop!

Clash of Champions – Predictions

WWE Championship Ambulance Match: Randy Orton defeats Drew McIntyre to win title

WWE Universal Championship Match: Roman Reigns defeats Jey Uso

SmackDown Women’s Championship Match: Nikki Cross defeats Bayley (thanks to Sasha Banks) to win title – Alexa Bliss comes out to congratulate her and gives her a Sister Abigail

WWE Women’s Championship Match: Shayna Baszler and Nia Jax defeats The Riott Squad to retain title

Smackdown Tag Team Championship Match: Cesaro and Shinsuke Nakamura defeats Lucha House Party to retain title

RAW Tag Team Championship Match: The Street Profits defeats Angel Garza and Andrade to retain title

WWE Undisputed Intercontinental Championship Ladder Match: Jeff Hardy defeats AJ Styles & Sami Zayn to win undisputed title

WWE United States Championship Match: Bobby Lashley defeats Apollo Crews to retain title

RAW Women’s Championship Kickoff Show Match: Asuka defeats Zelina Vega to retain title

Coming up this week:

RAW: Clash of Champions Fallout

NXT: Shawn Michaels hosts face-off between Finn Balor and Kyle O’Reilly Shotzi Blackheart vs. Dakota Kai

SMACKDOWN: Clash of Champions Fallout

Thanks for letting us share our thoughts! Shoot me an email at jcrowe567@gmail.com. We’d love to hear your comments and suggestions! You can also check out my blog, The Crowe’s Nest as we delve into more pro wrestling, sports entertainment and the World of Sports. My apologies ahead of time – I AM a Patriots, Red Sox, Celtics and Bruins fan! If you’re not down with that, I’ve got TWO WORDS for you… NEW ENGLAND

[colliermelissa1994]

How To Stop Cat Peeing On Carpet Super Genius Tips

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Cat Spray Walmart

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[jacksonnicolee]

NCT irl at Kcon2017

Oooohhhh fuck can I just start off with they’re all really fucking attractive and pictures don’t do them justice? Like seriously pictures cannot contain how perfect they are. Taeil: He’s super cute like really cute. His body is even cute. He’s like right in the middle not super tall but not short. When u look at his face u just wanna smile. Really smooth skin like u wanna rub it, it’s like after u shave ur legs. Has big puppy dog eyes like u finna get lost in them shits sis. His hair is very nice and looks healthy, his hair kinda looks weird sometimes in photos but it really suits him irl!!! Some girl got chosen for Doyoung and Taeil to sing a song to her and Taeil sang a Bruno mars song I’m sorry I really can’t remember what it’s called but you guys know that one Bruno mars love song. His English was PRECIOUS he has a very sweet sing song voice. Everyone melted when he sang the Bruno Mars song like GODDDD boy really can sing well!! He's a super cute puppy flower boy, he gives off pretty boy vibes 🌸. He was smiling a smol cute little smile the whole time he was very precious and I just wanted to love him. Taeyong: MY FUCKING BIAS. WOOOW HES SOOO ATTRACTIVE WAS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE??? I WAS IN THE RED CARPET TAKING PICS THEN HE CAME OUT AND I JUST I PUT MY PHONE DOWN AND STARED AT HIM I HAD TO EXPERIENCE HIS BEAUTY RIGHT THERE MY MOUTH GOT FUCKING DRY AT HIS BEAUTY. Super nice skin super cute lil sweet heart trying to please everyone fan interaction every time u turn around. When he dances he GETS INTO IT his hair flops all around it's really adorable! He hits all his moves super sharp and it's very pleasing to see. He had a solo before all the other boys came out and he KILT THAT SHIT everyone was in shock because it was so good. He was very nervous and I was like abt to cry bc that's my baby and no. He was talking in English and messed up and he DID THE CUTEST SHIT EVER he just looked at the ground and started smiling and all the boys just patted his back everyone said "awww" tho so I hope that made him feel better. Really a perfectionist, tried his hardest to speak really good English, ohh boy his English voice is cuteeeeee. He kept taking his jacket off because he was gettin hot. Has nice arms, the boys weren't lying ab those veins girl u can see them from miles away, he has nice hands too. He's kinda like Taeil he's not very tall he's more on the shorter side but very nice thin pretty dancer body. He was so pretty?They had a little fan interaction wheel of fortune thingy and he kept doing all the little popular American dances he was gettin it in. On stage he's got a very sexy idgaf vibe, but in reality he's cute and quiet. A fan had the same hair color as him and when he walked by her he pointed to his hair and then hers and gave a thumbs up. In all he really works hard and you can tell he really cares for everyone especially his members, he's very nervous but once he gets past that he's super cute and wants to make sure fans have a good time. ALSO HES FUCKING GORGEOUS I CANT EXPLAIN. Johnny: BIG HES BIG TALL LEAN BUT MUSCULAR BUILD HE'S THE EPITOME OF A MAN. Very tall, I was at his elbow. He was right next to me and I almost fainted he was so hot. He has these little patches that look like irritated or inflamed skin on his left cheek near his neck and under his jaw his makeup artists covered it really well tho so I really couldn't tell. He has flawless pore less skin it looked really soft and dewy. His hair was actual sex, the pictures don't do him justice he fucking ROCKS this hair and it makes him give off sexy vibes. When I told him I loved him he gave me the sweetest smile ever and ugh I melted. Very polite baby!! Asked how everyone in my isle was doing and waved to everyone! I can't get over how nice his body was I just wanted him to wrap me up in his arms so badly they looked so strong, his body is actually pretty wide but he's lean and muscular, like he could engulf you. Bless those stylists tho bc his clothes fit him really well and he looked very cute. He's a precious pure baby in a big sexy man body, he was smiling the whole concert everyone was PIPING HIS HEAD YO. He was talking and it got quiet and he was asking the members to show something and asking the girl who got picked for the song to pick a singing member and a girl in my isle screamed "I pick you Johnny" and he couldn't contain his smile and laughter like he was cracking tf up. Every time it got quiet I would scream Johnny along with 2-3 other people in my isle and he would smile SO BIG. He was really happy, lots of Johnny stans there. His legs are big and long, when he dances you can see how big they are, he was smirking the whole cherry bomb choreo bc everyone kept screaming his name. In all he was extremely extremely handsome I wasn't ready I had no idea how handsome he was! He's so underrated please love him he deserves it. He's a cute shy baby with a sexy face and body like he would treat u so well I can just tell. I really wanna meet him again! Win win: PRINCE OF FUCKING CHINA. Huge eyes like they're half his face. Symmetrical face with very nice features. Sort of round face. Good hair, pretty doll lips. He's sort of on the shorter side and he's thin but not as thin as Taeyong. He was gettin hyped, there were a lot of win win stans with little signs and stuff. He didn't speak any English but listened very intently when Mark and Johnny and the others spoke English, you can tell he really wants to learn. I feel like he's a fast learner. Very articulate and energetic dancer, looks like he's having the time of his life on stage. Laughs at anything the members say, he really loves them. I was wearing an nct banner on my shoulders and he pointed at it and gave a heart and I thought I died for a sec. He tries to make sure every fan can see him like when they were waving goodbye he took the longest and kept stopping to wave 😂. He's a cute baby and sometimes it seems like he isn't thinking about anything? He loves being on stage and dances amazing I was so impressed by him, the other members all dance very well too. He seems very innocent and sweet, he works very hard and does a very energetic stage. Really tho he's so handsome like prince of China frfr. Jaehyun: TALL BABY! HANDSOME BABY! PRETTY BABY! MUSCULAR BABY! He really is tall, almost as tall as Johnny. Definitely most muscular in NCT he has BIG arms, you can see through his clothes how defined he is. His voice is deep, like deeper than on the actual tracks. AMAZING LIVE Singer. He sang live the whole time and everyone was amazed. He's actually very good at dancing!!! A real man!! The type of guy u wanna wife up. Shy but confident, very smiley and cute with his members. His hair is really nice I wanted to run my hands through it so bad. When he was in the isle with me he kept looking around and licking his lips 😫😫. He's really built so well and his voice sounds like honey. Actual prince. You think he looks good in pictures? Well if you see him in real life your gonna be blown back by his handsomeness. Actor like chiseled features, looks like his jawline will cut you. Big eyes, small face. He was very pale, but not extremely pale he was just very symmetrical and perfect looking, he looked like if you could create the perfect man. Overall he seemed like a cute reserved sweet heart, once again shockingly handsome and sexy but also very cute! Doyoung: BEAGLE! THIS BOY IS TALL AND CUTE! THIS BOY IS BOYFRIEND MATERIAL! He has very circular big eyes, he's pretty thin. Legs r long as fuck they look like they're his whole body. Sweet high voice when he sings, he sings very well live. When he was singing to the girl i was shocked how nice his voice really was. Cute hair, it's also kinda thin. He gives off cutesy boyfriend vibes. Aesthetic boyfriend. Model boyfriend. Very well spoken and articulate. Very chic! Once again he seems like a model or something. All his clothes looked like he was modeling them. Cute stage presence equally cute up close. He wasn't shy at all he just walked down the isle I was like damn ok. He has this sort of happy but chic aura. This boy knows what he's doing he's very good. Overall I just wanna walk through ny with him and take aesthetic pictures, such a boyfriend oml. Yuta: HANSOME! SMART! LIKE REALLY DAMN HANDSOME! He's a bias wrecker, he damn near stole my heart. Sexy boy fr tho idk if he knows how sexy he is tho. Good dancer too. DEEP DEEP VOICE FUCKKKK. His Korean is really good too. He's in the middle for height also. When he dances he thrusts his hips a lot. You know that part in the beginning of cherry bomb the "I'm the biggest hit" part? Boy was thrusting his hips super hard. Nice body, also kinda thin but somewhat muscular. Really attractive and handsome, it's like he commands your attention and leaves you wanting more. More of a smirk than a smile on stage. Cocky and sexy on and off stage, off stage he's a tiny bit more cute tho. Sexy without trying sort of dancing. Sweater paws the whole night! He wasn't sweating super bad despite his million layers of clothes. Seems like the school bad boy. Major bad boy vibes. Watch out tho bc then he'll do some cute shit and steal ur heart. Overall very sexy with a good stage presence, I feel like he's very cocky but in a good way like it's hot, MAJOR BIAS WRECKER. Mark: SUPER CUTE SUNSHINE BABY TRYING HIS BEST HE WANTS TO PLEASE YOU HES A GIFT FROM GOD! When I tell you the cutest most sweetest lil baby ever I mean it. Little baby facial features with big round eyes. His voice is surprisingly deep in real life? Tries to give bad boy sexy vibes on stage but just ends up being a cutie. PROTECT HIM. He can dance very well I would say one of the best dancers. FULL OF ENERGY THE WHOLE NIGHT. His hair was all floppy and bouncing around it was so precious. He was getting down to the wheel of fortune song like he was actually dancing really well to the random tune. He's just so super cute and smiley UGJ. He will brighten your day. He was nervous and kept stuttering in English and smiling at the floor it was cute. His English voice is so nice to hear it's like the perfect tone it just sort of flows into you ears. Bouncing around the stage the whole night. TRYING HIS ABSOLUTE HARDEST AND BEST. Really hard worker. Sweating a bit but it was cute. Everything he does is cute. Overall I jut wanna protect him and watch him grow and get more popular, he's really so lovable. Haechan: AWWWWWWW CUTE LIL BABY BOY! SOOO EXCITED AB EVERYTHING! When he dances he also bounces around. SMOL! Heart piercing smile! SMIRKING THROUGH EVERY PERFORMANCE. It's funny because he thinks he's older than he is and it's really cute. CUTE PRECIOUS BABY FAT I HOPE IT NEVR GOES AWAY. Sweet baby face and very interesting and melodic voice. I'm smiling while I write this y'all he was so cute in his little shorts. He was so fucking happy and excited just really super precious. He can dance really well too he killed his solo thingy. Really sweet baby you would never know how much of a trouble maker he was. He's really the cutest lil thing and so excited he couldn't contain it! God I just wanna protect him.

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 78

Warnings: mentions of drug addiction

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​

She finds him asleep on the couch when she returns. Clad in just a pair of faded and well worn jeans, his chin tucked to his chest and hands clasped together and resting on his stomach. It’s the most comfortable -and vulnerable- she’s seen him in weeks. No tension in his shoulders and his face softer; all the worry, stress and pent up rage not furrowing his brow or narrowing his eyes or tightening his jaw. He’s at peace; not haunted by the demons and mistakes of his past or all of the violence and gore he’s both witnessed and partaken in. No nightmares of the moment seven years when he’d lay dying on a patch of filthy and cracked cement. His brain not torturing him with horrible visions of his wife and his children being brutalized and murdered. His breath slow and even, his face and body not contorted by pain. And she briefly stands in front of the couch and watches him; seeing so much of the three oldest in him during that quiet, calm moment. The way the ends of those dark, thick lashes skim the tops of his cheeks and a slight pout curves his lips; his hair falling across his forehead and over his eyes. She sees Millie especially.  All long limbs and torso and the exact colour and texture of hair. The identical ears and the shape and line of the jaw.

As rough as he is -the embodiment of masculinity with his long frame and broad shoulders and impressive, hard muscles- he IS beautiful.  What would lessen the appeal of most men, only adds to his attractiveness. The  full, thick beard that appears much darker and coarse than usual, all of the tattoos and scars, the large, strong hands with their battered and damaged knuckles. All the things that others may see as imperfections, she views as beyond perfect; adding together to make him the man that she knows. The one that she’d fallen in love with seven years ago and continues to fall more in love with each passing day.

She’d always laughed at those who claimed they experienced such a thing -or even dared to believe in it- finding that in her experience, the years -hell, even months- spent with someone made her resent them. She grew bored of the ‘same old, same old’. Easily annoyed by their presence and turned off by their voice and the mere look of their face; disgusted whenever they’d touch her or they’d move in for a kiss or they’d try to instigate something more. But she's quickly learned that her indifference and boredom had been the byproducts of NOT being in love. That she’d simply been infatuated with the thought of someone, not the person themselves. Mark had stripped away every ounce of hope she’d had of ever experiencing the real thing, and she’d vowed to never get that attached again; refusing to trust someone with both her body and her heart. Content -or so she’d thought- with being alone forever and never getting married again or getting the opportunity to have a family.

Tyler had changed all of that. Easily and effortlessly getting her to open up and trust him; quickly showing his softer, vulnerable, and broken side in order for her to be more honest about her own. Going out of his comfort zone and letting her see him for who he truly is -the good, the bad, the horrifically bad- so she’d feel more at ease with doing the same.  It had been terrifying; falling so hard and so fast and being so willing to put all her trust and faith in someone she’d just met. But that moment on the bridge, when she’d chosen to put her own life at risk in order to try and save his, she had known it was the beginning; the start of shedding her old existence for an entirely new one. And when he healed and was able to head home and the weeks and months passed by and she’d found herself not able to get enough of him, she’d learned just what it was like to fall more in love with someone as time went by. Soon she began thinking about all of the things she’d miss if she’d lost him. The sound of voice and his laugh and the way his smile made the corner of his eyes crinkle. His clean and fresh and utterly masculine scent, how his hands felt when they cradled her face while kissing her, the weight and warmth of his body in bed next to her. And in the expanse of seven years, her attraction, lust, and love have only grown stronger and more powerful. All consuming and frightening at times, but so damn perfect.

Gently combing her fingers through his hair, she  brushes his bangs away from his forehead and then leans down to press a kiss to his brow. Smiling at the long, content sigh that escapes his lips and the way his head briefly lifts before falling back and to the side. THAT’s Millie; the way she falls asleep in the car with her mouth slightly open and her hands tightly clasped in her lap. There’s so much of him in her; physical appearance, mannerisms and facial expressions. And that strong, assertive personality and hair trigger temper. And that ferocious, deep, and profound love and the desire to protect their family that inhabits every fibre of their being.

She carefully climbs into his lap; straddling him with a knee alongside either hip. Curling both arms around his neck and pressing her body against his as she sits upon those wide, muscular thighs; eyes closing as she tucks her head under his chin. And she melts further into him when his arms wrap rightly and securely around her, hands now clasped at the small of her back. He feels so good; the warm that radiates from his body, that solid expanse of chest, the weight of his head as his chin nestles into her hair. Seven years later and she STILL can’t get enough of him. The feel of his body against hers, the familiar smell that clings to his skin and his clothes, how those arms make her feel safe and protected. Something no one before had ever managed to achieve.

She’s unsure how much time passes; if it’s been minutes or hours since she’d closed her eyes and relaxed against him. Her body giving in to its own fatigue; the last of the adrenaline finally abating and replaced with a peaceful, almost happy calm. There’s still so much worry and fear inside of her, but she’s able to temporarily put it on hold; giving it to that enormous relief that comes with each successfully complete part of a job. And she feels his hold on her loosen as he wakes; one hand remaining at the small of her back and the other drifting up her spine and over the nape of her neck before settling in her hair. Lightly fisting the dark, silky tresses and gently pulling her head up towards him. Covering her mouth with his a long, slow, deep kiss that has her pressing her body even tighter against his and culminating in the tip of his tongue briefly sliding along her lower lip before his teeth capture it between them.

Esme grins. “What was THAT for?”

“I need a reason to kiss my wife?”

“You’re ‘hey, nice to see you’ kisses aren’t usually like THAT.”

“Maybe I’m just glad you’re back. Maybe I was worried about you and anxious to get you back here safe and sound.”

“So that’s your ‘I’m glad you're alive’ kiss.”

“That’s my ‘thank god you’re back in one piece’ kiss.”

“I’ll take it,” she says, and kisses him this time. Soft and languid; her fingernails digging into the back of his neck when his tongue once more pushes its  way into her mouth. His palms sliding down to cup her ass; tightly squeezing and pulling her firmly against him.  “You’re in a mood,” she observes with a small giggle, and rests her head against his, the sides of their noses touching and their lips a hair’s width apart.

“Yup.”

“Must have been a hell of a nap you had to wake up in that good of a mood.”

“I wanted to be awake when you got back.  Guess I just dozed. I’m sorry; that I wasn’t up.”

“Don’t be sorry. You haven’t been sleeping well lately. Some nights you don’t even sleep at all. And you need to. Sleep. You’re not a robot.”

“If I was, I could get an upgrade; trade all the bad parts in for better ones. I need a serious overhaul.”

“When we get home, you’re getting looked at. And I don’t want to hear any excuses or bullshit. Because I WILL find a way to drag you there. This has gone on long enough; all the pain that you’re in. It’s been chronic for years and it’s getting worse. I KNOW it is. And you don’t have to live with. You deserve so much better than this.”

“I’ll go. I’ll call as soon as we get back. Make an appointment.”

“You’re not just saying that to appease me and shut me up?”

“I’m saying it because you’re right. It is worse. Way worse than I ever thought it would get. And I’m tired. Of the pain. I’m tired of trying to live with it and pretend I’m okay.”

She lays a hand on the side of his face and nuzzles his ear with her nose. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

“What about everyone else?”

“Fuck everyone else. Who cares what they think. You don’t owe them anything, Tyler. They don’t know half of what goes on or half what you’re going through. Once this is over and we get home, you have to take some time off; you need to get looked at and your body and your brain need to rest. This has been hell and you need to step back when it’s done. You HAVE to. Just run things behind the scenes and leave the dirty work to the people we’re paying. At least for a little while, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, and presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“That’s it? ‘Okay’? You’re not going to argue with me or try to give all kinds of bullshit about being fine and how I shouldn’t worry about you and you know what your body can handle? None of that?”

“None of that.”

“You’re getting very sensible in your old age,” she teases, and rubs the tip of her nose against his. “Thank you. For finally agreeing with me on something.”

He grins. “Only took seven years.”

“Only,” she laughs, and then rests her cheek on his shoulder. Lulled back into a state of relaxation when the fingers of one of his hands gently massage the back of her head and the other drift up the back of her shirt; repeatedly brushing against the small of her back.

“Where’s Koen?”

“He had to go back for a while. Yaz wanted an in person update on how things went. He said he’d be back sometime in the early evening.”

“How did things go?”

Started and ended a bit rocky, but everything in between went alright. Better than I expected it to, actually.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t call. When you got out. So I’d know you were okay.”

“What?” she gives a small laugh and pulls back to look at him, hands clasped together at the back of his neck.  “I DID call you.”

Tyler frowns. “What?”

“How can you not remember? I called you when we got to the car. I told you how they had my picture at the checkpoint but Koen stepped up and saved my ass. I told you how I got the word out and saw Farhad. You don’t remember any of that?”

“Yeah...yeah…” he attempts a reassuring smile “...I do now. Now that you mention it.”

“How could you not remember any of that?”

“I just woke up. You know how I am sometimes when I first wake up. All disoriented and forgetful and shit. Something I don’t even know what day it is or where the hell I am. And my brain’s a little fucked, remember? Short term memory issues.”

“What is going on with you?”

Both his hands move to her legs, slowly rubbing up and down her denim clad thighs. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

He chuckles. “No, babe. I don’t. What…?”

“Look at me…” Esme places a hand on the side of his face, nails digging into his cheek as she forcibly moves his head forward. “...what the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know what…”

“Have you looked in the mirror at all today? Your pupils are dilated, you’re sweating like crazy, your hands have been shaking for the last ten minutes. You’re looking at me, but it’s like you’re not even seeing me. What the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s going on. I just woke up in a weird mood, I guess.”

“This is way beyond a weird mood. This reminds me of…” her eyes narrow, lips pursing tightly together. “...where are they?”

“What are you talking about? Where’s what?”

“The pills. Where are they?”

“What pills? What are you going on about?”

“Don’t play stupid with me, Tyler. The pills. The ones that Anil’s doctor gave you before we left. The stronger ones. The ones you requested because the old prescription wasn't cutting it.”

“It wasn’t. I had to take six just to take the edge off.”

“And how many of the new ones have you taken? You know dilaudid is pretty hard core, right? That is one of the strongest ones out there. And it’s easily addictive and…”

“I’m not addicted,” he irritably interjects. “Not even close. Don’t…”

“Don’t what? Worry?”

“Freak out. Don’t freak out.”

“How many did you take?”

“I don’t know. A few.”

“Bullshit. You’re completely fucked up right now.”

“I’m fine,” he insists. “You woke me up and I was disoriented and I forgot that you called. Fucking relax. It’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? You’re fucking tweaking on pain meds.”

“You know what? You’re losing your shit for no reason. You’re blowing this way or proportion and…”

“Don’t you do that,” Esme snarls. “Don’t you dare and gaslight me.”

“I’m not,” he attempts to tone down the harshness to his voice, and lightly squeezes her thighs. “I’d never do that to you.”

“So you’re just treating me like I’m stupid, then.  You think I don’t know what I’m seeing? That I haven’t seen this before? Where are they?”

“Esme…”

“Are they in the kitchen?”

“I…”

She shakes her head in both exasperation and disbelief, and then jumps off his lap and storms out of the room. “Where are they?  Where are you keeping them? With the rest of the meds?”

“What are you doing?” Fear and regret surge through him as he joins her in the kitchen, watching as she opens the lid on the plastic container holding a variety of medications and dumps them onto the counter. Anger causing her cheeks to flush; her eyes dark and wild and her entire body trembling. Hands visibly shaking as she picks up the bottles one by one and reads the labels.

“Where are they? They were in here last night; I was the one who put them with the rest of the meds. I know I put them in here. Where are they, Tyler?”

“Stop, okay? Just stop and let me explain.”

“Where are they? I will tear this whole fucking kitchen...this whole fucking house...apart until I find them. Is that what you want? You want to see me completely lose it?”

“No, baby. That’s not what I want. Just let me…”

“I’m not letting you explain shit! I am giving you two choices. You can either tell me where they are, or I toss this entire place until I find them. And trust me, the latter won’t end well for you. So you either start being totally honest with me or you let this escalate into the worst day of your life. Where are they?”

Sighing heavily, he reaches into the front pocket of his jeans and removes the bottle of dilaudid; fingers closing tightly around the plastic cylinder when she reaches for it. “At least let me explain. At least listen to me. Please? Give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“You give them to me and I’ll let you explain until you’re blue in the face. And it better not be bullshit. I’m not Sarah; I’m not your dumb ass ex wife that didn’t have the  balls to stand up to you or even two brain cells to rub together. So stop treating me like that. Like her.”

He reluctantly releases his grip on the bottle, watching helplessly as she tears off the cap and dumps the contents into her palm. Brow furrowing as she silently counts the pills.

“Where’s the rest of them?”

“I don’t…”

“Stop lying to me!” Esme snaps. “You got this prescription yesterday. Sixty pills. You took two before bed last night. That left you with fifty eight. Even if you’ve already taken four today. There should be fifty four left. Why is there only forty two?”

“I might have accidentally taken too many today.”

“Accidentally or purposefully? Don’t bullshit me. Unless you want me walking out of here right now, don’t lie to me. You meant to take them, didn’t you.”

He nods.

“You’ve taken three times the daily dose and it’s not even four in the afternoon! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“They weren’t doing anything. For the pain. They haven’t been scratching the surface.”

“So you just kept taking them? Hoping it would magically happen? Or were you trying OD on them?”

“No. I wasn’t. I just wanted the pain to stop. That’s all I wanted. I just wanted it to stop.”

“When it didn’t after the first four, you should have called the doctor and told him. Jesus Christ, Tyler! I don’t know if you’re practically OD’ing right now or if you’re high as fuck or if you’re in withdrawal. Look at you! Look at how red your face is and how bad you’re shaking and how much you’re sweating! Was it worth it? Was the high worth this? Was it worth me freaking out?”

“No. It wasn’t. And it wasn’t about getting high. It was about the pain and needing it to stop. And when it didn’t, I kept taking them and I kept waiting for them to make things better.”

“When were you going to stop? When you passed out? When you aspirated on your own puke and choked to death? Is that when you were going to stop? You didn’t get enough of that life before we met? You wanted a little walk down memory lane? A little trip back to the good old days? Or maybe you were nostalgic about when you back on the Oxy and we split up for six fucking months!”

“Baby...please…” He takes a step towards her, attempting to lay a hand on her shoulder, only for her to glare at him and shove him away.

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” Esme snarls.  “And don’t you dare fucking touch me!”  She dumps the pills back into the bottle; snapping the lid back into place and then angrily tossing them at him. “Take them! They’re obviously the most important thing to you if you’re willing to throw your entire life away for them.”

“I’m not willing to do that. I’m not trying to throw my life away,” the tears flow freely and easily; spurred on by regret, guilt, and pure shame. And the fear that he’s mere minutes...even seconds...away from losing the one thing...the one person...that seven years ago had made his life worth living. “It’s the pain. It’s the pain and it’s the worry and it’s the stress!”

“You don’t think I’m stressed?! You don’t think I’m worried? I can’t even be with my kids right now. My babies! Because I had to come here and help you. You brought me back to the one place I never wanted to come back to. Because you needed me. Because you needed MY help! And I gave in and I let you take me away from them. I left my children for you and what did you do? You turn into someone I don’t even know! I don’t know who this is standing right in front of me. It’s definitely not my husband, because he would NEVER do this. He’d never risk losing everything like this. How dare you bring me here...how dare you take me away from my kids...and do this to me!”

“I’m sorry. I thought I could stop. I thought I had it under control. I thought…”

“What was the one I think I told you I wouldn’t tolerate? What did I say was my breaking point?”

“Meds.”

“Meds. Exactly. I stuck by you seven years ago when you went into rehab; when you beat it the first time. And I tried to deal with it the second time and you got worse and worse and you wouldn’t get help and we spent six months apart until you decided to finally get your shit together! And you promised me, Tyler. When we got back together and you went through rehab again and you got clean again, you promised me it was the end of it!”

“I know. I know I did. And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Not Mahajan, not Asif’s people, not the meds. None of it. And I did think I had it under control. I didn’t think I was that bad.  I thought I’d just get over this hump and I’d be fine and I could stop.”

“I can’t do this.” She valiantly holds back the tears that shimmer in her eyes. “I can’t. I love you, but I just can’t. I love you with every fibre of my being. I love you with everything I am and everything I have. But I can’t be with an addict. And I told you I couldn’t. I told you I could handle  the drinking, but not the meds. And you said you understood and that you’d never go back to them.”

“I know I did. What do you want me to say? I said I’m sorry. Do you want me to tell that I’m a huge piece of shit? That I’m EXACTLY what your mother said I was? That I’m turning out ton be my single worst fucking fear? That I’m total garbage that doesn’t deserve you? Is that what you want me to say?”

“No! That’s not what I want you to say. Because none of that is true! You’re not any of those things and you never have been! I’ve never seen you that way and I never will you. I love you. I have loved you through every bad, shitty fucking thing we’ve been through. There’s nothing that could make me stop loving you. That’s not what this is about. This isn’t about NOT loving you. This is about loving myself and loving my children and not wanting this life for them. I won’t live with an addict, Tyler. I won’t. And I shouldn’t have to and neither should they.”

“They’re my kids, too. They’re not just yours.”

“Then do what’s best for them! Because this isn’t it! Being an addict is not what’s best for them! And you of all people should know that they don’t deserve this. After everything your father did to you and put you through, you should be the one person who knows they don’t deserve this!”

“I would NEVER hurt them like that. Like he did with me. I would never, ever, lay a hand on them. Or you. I’d kill myself if I ever even thought it.”

“You don’t have to hit people to hurt them. So you don’t raise a hand to them; you break their hearts instead.”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, unable to stop the vicious and bitter flow of tears. “I am so sorry.”

“Those kids love you to the ends of the earth and beyond. They idolize you. They practically worship the ground you walk on. And this is what you do? You hurt them like this?This is how you repay them for having all that blind faith and trust in you?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Neither do I,” Esme admits. “All I DO know is that I’m hurt and I’m angry and I’m heartbroken. Because I love you and I don’t want to walk away. It’s the last thing I want. But I can’t put my kids through this. I can’t, Tyler.”

“Are you going to leave?”

“I don’t know. I can’t leave right now, can I. Not in the middle of all this. I can’t leave you here alone to deal with it by yourself. I’d never do that to you. I said I’d help. So here I am. I can’t leave now. I won’t do that to you.”

“What about when we get back home?”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see. I can tolerate a lot, but I can’t tolerate this. I just can’t. And it’s unfair of you to think I should. Or that your kids should.”

“What will you do? With them? Where would you take them? Would stay in Australia or go back to the States or…”

“I wouldn’t take your kids from you.”

“Well you kind of are if you take off.”

“I’d stay in Australia. So you could see them. I wouldn’t tear them out of your life completely. I would never do that to you. Or them.  They’re happy there. They love it. And they love you. I wouldn’t cut you out of their lives. You’re their father. I wouldn’t hurt them like that. Or you.”

“So you are. Going to leave.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Sounds like your mind’s made up. Like you already made your decision.”

“I haven’t. Because this isn’t a decision I even want to make. Please don’t turn this around and so I look like  the bad person.”

“I’m not. I know I’m a huge pile of shit. That I’m a huge fucking failure. I know all that. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.  That I turned out to be exactly what everyone I would be. A complete and utter fuck up.”

“Stop it!” she orders. “I don’t care what anyone says or thinks. You’re not any of those things. You’ve got issues. You’re an addict and you need help. You need to get your shit together and you need to get clean. And…”

The doorbell sounds throughout the house, bringing an abrupt end to the heated and volatile exchange. And that melodic chime brings an immediate -and enormous- sense of relief; lifting the tension and easing some of the fear and the  heartache and remorse that threatens to swallow him whole.

“Who’s that?” A smirk tugs at the corner of Esme’s mouth. “Your dealer?”

Tyler ignores the cheap shot. In fact, he knows he deserves it. In the same way he deserves every harsh truth she’s tossed his way. “Anil was sending a couple of guys. Said he had more gear for me.”

“You should get it then. It’s important.”

“It can wait.”

“If it’s things that are going to keep you alive, I’d rather you get it now. Because it’s important to me; you staying alive.”

He manages a small smile, then uses the heels of his palms to clear the tears away from his cheeks. And his heart gives a hopeful leap when she reaches out to grab his hands as he steps past her; her eyes locked on his as she briefly squeezes. Their fingers slowly grazing along each other as he walks away.

*****

She’s leaning back against the kitchen island when he returns; her eyes still glassy with lingering emotion but her tears long dried up. Hands trembling slightly as she tightly clasps a glass of water.

“That’s it?” she asks, regarding the lone cardboard box in his possession; his name written across the front in black permanent marker. “Where’s Anil’s guys?”

“Gone.” He sidles up beside her, setting the tightly sealed box on the counter top.  

“That’s kind of weird, don’t you think?  That they wouldn’t stick around to make sure you got it? And what kind of gear could be in a box that size? Other than ammo or grenades.”

“Definitely not either of those. It barely weighs anything. Addie weights more than this does.”

“What did you ask for?” She takes a swallow of water and turns her stomach to the counter, standing on her tiptoes in order to see over the top of the box as he begins peeling off the layers of tape.

“Nothing. He said he was sending stuff.”

“I don’t know who taped it shut, but it reminds me how you wrap Christmas presents.”

Tyler frowns. “I’m not THAT bad.”

“Baby, this past Christmas? You used a whole roll of tape for three things.”

“They were big presents.”

“Sure they were,” she chides, and playfully leans into him with her shoulder. “Would you hurry up? The suspense is killing me.”

“It isn’t even yours. Relax.”

“Maybe it’s new knee or elbow pads,” she suggests.

“I don’t need those.”

“Your other ones are a hot mess. They’re the same ones you had seven years ago. The first time we were here. You wouldn’t let me throw them out, remember?”

“I like those ones. They’re my favourites.”

“Kind of like your favourite red underwear? With all the holes in them and the frayed edges?”

“They’re not my favourite underwear. They’re my lucky underwear. I was wearing those the days we made Declan and Addie. So they’re VERY lucky.”

“That explains the day you’re currently having. You’re not wearing them, are you.”

Tyler grins. “You’re a smart ass.”

“But I’m cute. I’m a cute smart ass.”

“I’ll give you that.”  He peels off the last remaining layer of tape, feeling her hand on his back as she perches herself even further on her toes in order to see the content. “There’s nothing in there for you,” he teases.

“I’m curious. I want to see. It’s like when Amazon delivers something I forgot I ordered.”

He smirks, then pulls back the flaps on the box. Eyes widening and his heart hammering in his chest when he spies the content. The faded and tattered gray ‘fur’, the one coal black eye staring up at him. He feels nauseous; bile burning the back of his throat. And his jaw tightens painfully and his hands grip the edges of the box with such force that the thick cardboard tears and his knuckles turn white.

“What the fuck…” her voice is barely above a whisper, and she takes a shaky, unsteady step backwards. “...Tyler...what the fuck…”

All words escape him. Profanities being screamed inside his head yet never making it to his lips. And he takes his own step back when she frantically rushes the counter; scooping the well loved stuffed koala from the confines of the box. Tears brimming in her eyes and her entire body trembling as gentle fingers travel over the surface of the bear. It’s tattered and worn down fur, the space when it’s second eyes used to bed, the purple and pink ribbon that Millie had wrapped around its neck three months ago; right before presenting it to her brand new baby sister.

“Oh God…” she sobs, the bear falling from her hands; body teetering and swaying as shock turns to light-headedness. “...Tyler…”

“You need to sit down.” He wraps his fingers around her upper arm, steering her in the direction of the kitchen table. A hand moving to the small of her back as she guides her into one of the chairs. “Calm down, okay? Just try and calm down.”

“What the hell is going on? What the hell…”

“Settle down. Just breathe. Can you do that for me? Just breathe?”

“I think so.”

He runs a palm over the top of her head and down her hair, tightly squeezing her shoulder before stepping away to fetch her half empty glass of water and the bottle of anti anxiety meds from the container on the counter. The rage is profound; the desire for revenge and the news to get his hands -his BARE hands- around the necks of every one of Asif’s people stronger than it’s ever been. But he needs to hold it together. Despite everything that happened earlier...the intensity of their fight and the echo of harsh, heartbreaking words still hanging in the air...she needs him.  And he needs to stow his own shit and take care of her.

“I don’t need those,” Esme protests, when she sees the bottle of pills in his hand. “I don’t…”

“You do. And you’re going to take them. They’re safe; for the baby.”  He sets the glass of water on the table and drops to his knees in front of her, uncapping the bottle and plucking out two of the small, white pills. “Open up.”

“No, Tyler. No.”

“Open up,” he firmly orders, and then slips the meds into her mouth; a palm resting under her chin and gently pressing her mouth closed. Her hands still tremble violently, and he holds the glass of water to her lips; slowly pouring the liquid into her mouth, a hand cupped underneath in order to capture anything that escapes her mouth. “You need to stay calm, okay?” He returns the glass to the table, then takes both her hands in his; holding them as tightly as he can and placing them on her thighs. “Just breathe. I got you.”

“It hurts,” she winces. “My stomach.”

“Cramps?”

She nods.

“You want to go to the hospital? Get checked out?”,/p>

“We can’t leave. They obviously know we're here. If they leave, they’ll see us and they’ll come after us and they’ll…”

“Let them. I’ll fucking kill them. All of them. All that matters is you and that baby.”

“I can’t let that happen. I can’t let them get a hold of you and hurt you. I can’t…”

“I’ll call Anil. I’m sure he knows someone that can come here and check on things. You want me to call him?”

Esme shakes her head.

“Are you sure?”

She nods. “I don’t think it’s anything serious. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the baby. I used to get cramps all the time with the others; when I’d get worked up or too excited.  I think it’s just that.”

“If it gets any worse…”

“I’ll tell you. I promise.”

He raises her hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of one, then the other.

“They know where we are.”

“Yeah. They know.”

“How? This is supposed to be a safe house. How did they find us? How…?”

“I don’t know, baby. I honestly don’t know.”

“Fredrick…” she glances towards the bear on the counter. “...how...I don’t understand…”

“It’s fucked up, I know. It is so fucked up. And I’m so sorry. That this is happening. That ANY of this is happening.”

“That night you went into Addie’s room and the window was open, he was gone then, wasn’t he?”

“I don’t know. I never noticed. I was too busy worrying about her crying and being cold and the window being wide open. I didn’t think to look for the bear.”

“They came in through the window?”

“No. There’s no way. There’s no way they got onto the property. Not with all those guards keeping an eye on things. And I checked; during the day. There’s a garden right under her window and there were no footprints in the dirt, no indents from a ladder. Nothing. There was nothing there.”

“So it was someone inside?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure.”

“Which means they’re still there. And our kids are still there. We need to go back. We need to go back to Mumbai and…”

“Listen to me,” he drops one of her hands and lays his palm on the back of her head. “We can’t. We can’t go back. Not when they know we’re here. They’re watching us; they’re watching every move we make and they’ll see us leave and they’ll follow and we’ll lead them right back to the kids. We can’t leave.”

“What do we do? Whoever it is, they’re still in the house. With our kids!”

“I’ll call Anil. And Nik. I’ll let them know what happened and they’ll take care of it. I need you to trust me. I know that’s a lot to ask, especially after what went down between us earlier, but I need you to trust me.”

“I do. I DO trust you.”

“The kids will be fine. I promise you. Nothing’s going to happen to them.”

“Look how close someone got to Addie. They were right in her room. They got close enough to take Fredrick. He was right beside her. When I tucked her in, she was looking at him and I moved him closer so she could see him better and touch him if she wanted to. I was so happy because she’s always so alert; she was paying attention and engaged with him and that’s a huge milestone and she’s reached it really early. And I thought I was doing the right thing by moving him closer to her. I’m sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing for her. I’m sorry, Tyler.”

“What are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I left her there. Usually we let her sleep in the room with us but she finally started getting comfortable in the crib and I wanted to be alone with you and I left her there and I should have brought her in with us. I shouldn’t have left her there alone and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he firmly repeats, and presses his lips to her forehead. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It’s okay. Just calm down. Everything’s going to be alright. You don’t have to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Fredrick was right there. Next to her. They would have had to reach over her. They could have taken her. They could have grabbed her and they could have…”

“Shhh…”  He places a kiss to her temple, an arm curling around her waist  and the hand buried in her hair drawing her face down to his shoulder. And he feels her arms slip under his, followed by her palms against his back and her fingernails digging into his skin. “...just breathe...it’s okay, Esme. I got you. I’m right here.”

“They could have taken her. They could have taken Addie.”

“But they didn’t. She’s fine.”

“But they could have. They could have grabbed her. That’s our baby, Tyler. And they could have taken her from us and we never would have seen her again.”

“They weren’t going to take her. It wasn’t about Addie. They were never going to hurt her.”

Sniffling, she turns her head sideways and rests her cheek against his shoulder; nose presses into the side of his neck. “How do you know?” “It wasn’t about Addie. It was about fucking with my head. They don’t want to hurt her. They want to hurt ME.”

“I don’t want that happening either,” she whimpers. “I don’t want to lose her OR you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. I promise.”

“When is this going to be over?”

“Soon. It’ll be over soon.”

“I just want to go home. I want to go and get our kids and go home.”

“And we will. Soon. I promise.”

“You have to make them pay, Tyler. Every single one of them. You have to make them pay for ever going near her. Every last one of them. You go in there and you make them pay.”

“I will,” he vows, and presses a kiss to the side of her head. “I’ll make them pay.”

*****

When he returns from calling both Anil and Nik, he finds her asleep on the couch. On her side with her knees pulled up towards her chest; cheeks raw from the tears she’d shed and the Addie’s bear tugged tightly against her. She’s exhausted; worn out by the hysterics surrounding the sudden appearance of Fredrick -and the unspoken message sent along with him- and their earlier fight.  He’s wracked by guilt and remorse; torn apart by the realization that he’d broken her heart. Hurting her when all he’s ever wanted to was protect her. And now he’s single-handedly destroyed the one person who’d given him a second chance; who’d seen past all of his damage and the weight of his demons and his mistakes and never once judged him for them or held his past over his head. She’d given him everything; a new life, a love he’d never imagined he could feel and thought he deserved, and five incredible, beautiful children. He’d taken all of it for granted; foolishly assuming she’d stick around no matter how badly he fucked up. And now he’s paying the price; filled with the very real -and terrifying- possibility that he’s already lost her. That the second they return home, she’ll be gone. Taking his kids and his entire heart with her.

He grabs the throw blanket from the back of the couch and spreads it over her, gently tucking it around her body and then gingerly removing Fredrick from her grasp. Lifting her head with one hand and then tucking the bear underneath her with the other; employing it as a makeshift pillow to place her cheek upon. He removes the holster and the gun from his hip and sets it on the coffee table, then retreats to the easy chair across the room. The pain in both his knee and shoulder are intense, causing him to wince and groan when he lowers himself into a sit and stretches his legs out in front of him.

There’s no relief for him now; flushing the entire bottle of pills the second he hung up the phone. As much as he wants them and craves them and NEEDS them, nothing good will come from having them even remotely close to him. He’s already on the verge of losing everything that matters, and he’s willing to take whatever steps he has to to prevent it from happening. He can’t lose her; life empty and meaningless without her. And he’d end up just as pathetic and worthless as he was before they met; spending his days in drunken and drug filled stupors.

Tyler rests his head against the back of the chair and closes his eyes. It will be a long while before he’s able to rest again; brain plagued with fear and guilt and immense regret. And rage. Insurmountable rage. The mere thought of anyone getting that close to one of his kids...his baby girl...causes both his jaw and his fists to clench. He’s never been a fan of revenge. Believing that the need and desire for it does more harm than good; putting yet another burden upon an already weary shoulders. But now he wants it. He NEEDS it.

He’s unsure of how long he sits there; eyes closed and pain radiating through his entire body, yet every once of his senses on high alert. Stomach twisting and clenching as his body tries to get used to not having it’s favourite vice. It’s alarming how quick it happened; how easily and effortlessly he became dependent on the drugs. But he’s optimistic that the side effects of sudden withdrawal won’t be that bad; he hadn’t been on them that long and the levels of the drug in his system are still relatively low. He’s battled worse. And won.

“Tyler?”  Her voice is groggy, and tinged with hints of confusion and sadness.

“Yeah?”

“You’re awake?”

“I’m awake.”

He hears the soft rustling of her clothes against the fabric of the couch, accompanied by the faint squeak of the springs as she climbs off of it. And within seconds he senses her standing alongside of him; eyes still closed as she pushes her fingers through his hair and then climbs into his lap. Turning her body sideways and draping her legs over the arm of the chair; both arms circling his neck and her head nestling into the space between his neck and shoulder. And he places a hand on her thigh and another on the small of her back, then turns his face into hers and presses a kiss to her forehead.

“You okay?” he asks, and runs his knuckles along her lower back.

Esme nods.

“Any cramps?”

“No. They’re gone. But I was scared.”

He rests his cheek against his forehead. “So was I.”

“Did you call Anil? And Nik?”

“It’s being taken care of. He’ll find out who it was. The kids are safe. Nik says they’re happy and having a good time. They miss us, though. And one of them’s a little...off.”

“That has to be Tanner.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“He’s just so sensitive. And he feels and he loves so deeply and so powerfully. He’s so much like you. You’re the same; you have all these emotions and all this love. And it’s beautiful. I just wish you were more like HIM; a little more about it all.”

“I’m trying. I really am.”

“I know. I know it’s hard. I know what it did; growing up with your father.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“You don’t have to.” She kisses the side of his neck, lips covering the scar left behind from seven years ago. “Are YOU okay?”

“Not really, no.”

“Pain?”

“It’s bearable. I’ll deal with it. All I have to do is get through the next few days and then we can go home and I can get to the doctor and he can figure something out. Find out just what the fuck is wrong and fix it. Or at least try to.”

“Did you take any more meds?”

“No. I flushed them.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“Yeah, I did. I did have to. Because it was getting way out of hand and I couldn’t stop. I don’t think I wanted to. And I don’t want that; I don’t want to be that way again.”

“I’ll help you. You know I will. You know I’ll do whatever it takes to help you get better.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve YOU.”

“And I don’t want to hear that talk. Because it’s bullshit. I love you and I’ll do whatever it takes to help you get past this. To help you get better.”

“I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want to get home and watch you walk out. I don’t want to go through all of this...Mahajan...Asif...all this shit...just to have you walk away.”

“I need a reason to stay, Tyler. I need to know that you’re clean and you’re healthy and the kids and I are safe.”

His heart aches at those words. At the mere thought she’d feel anything but safe with him.

“You’re always safe with me. You know that. I’d never do anything to hurt you. Or them.”

“When you’re clean, you’re amazing. You’re a ten. A ten plus, even. When you’re lucid and sober, you’re the one that keeps everything together. But when you’re using, I don’t even recognize you. You’re a totally different person. And if I see it, the kids will see it. Especially Millie and Tanner. You know how perceptive those two are. If things continue and they get THAT out of hand, you won’t be in control anymore. The meds will take over and you know what you’re saying or doing. And I can’t take that chance; that they’ll turn you like that. Because I trust you, but I don’t trust THEM.”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Whatever you WANT me to.”

“You have to want it too. Because if you don’t, it won’t work. And you know it won’t.”

“I’m not going back to the way I was. I won’t be that way; none when I met you, not when we split up. I refuse to be that guy again. And I’ll do whatever it takes NOT to be him.”

“If you have to get clean, Tyler. Whether that’s on your own with just me helping you, or you check into a rehab. This is the last chance. This is the third time we’ve been through this. And if it doesn’t stick this time…”

“It will. I promise it will. I can’t lose you. Or the kids. I just can’t.”

She raises her head from his shoulder and laying a hand on his cheek turns her face towards her; covering his mouth with hers in a kiss that’s so soft and so sweet it brings tears to his eyes. He doesn’t deserve this. Her. Not after everything he’s done to break her heart. Yet here she is, so willing and eager to love in spite of it all.

“What happens now?” Esme asks, as her fingers move through her hair and then trace the scars that mar his forehead, the left side of his face, and the bridge of his nose. “With this whole Fredrick thing?”

“Anil’s sending some guys to keep an eye on the outside. Koen and Rata are going to come and stay here; in case we need them. Asif’s people try anything they won’t get very far. And I think they’d be stupid to even make a mouth. These are street kids for the most part; they’re way out of their element.”

“That’s what we thought about those little assholes that attacked us in the alley seven years ago. And look how that ended up.”

“That was a lucky shot. Farhad. I turned my back and he took advantage of it. I knew better than that. I knew never to turn my back on a situation that could still be hot.”

She frowns. “You’re not really blaming yourself for that, are you? Him shooting you?”

“I’m just saying that I knew better. That was a rookie mistake. And I paid for it. Big time. I’m still paying for it. So are you.”

“You were already hurt,” she reasons. “You were already messed up. You shouldn’t even have gotten up after that sniper got you. A lesser man would have died then. He would have  stayed down and given up. And you didn’t. It’s not in you; to give up.”

“Sometimes I think I should have. Given up that day. Just stayed the fuck down and given up.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Would have saved you a world of hurt.”

“No. It wouldn’t have. Because I would have gone back home and I would have found out I was having Millie and I would have had to have gone through all of that by myself. She never would have known you. I didn’t even have a picture of you. All that would have existed was her, and my memories of you. What would I  have done when she got old enough to ask about you? When she wanted to know who her daddy is? So no, Tyler. You didn’t cause me a world of hurt, you saved from one.”

Swallowing around the lump of emotion wedged in his throat, he presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose.

“I don’t regret meeting you. I don’t regret what happened on the bridge. I don’t regret a single thing. I only regret I didn’t meet you sooner. Because THAT would have spared me a world of hurt.”

“That’s what you get for not taking a trip to Australia,” he teases, and she gives a small laugh.

“What was I supposed to do? Just fly there and try and find you? I wouldn’t exactly pick The Kimberley for my end destination.”

“Maybe we could have met somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“I dunno. The grocery store? The beach? A bar?”

“Oh that would have been interesting. Both of us drunk in the same place.”

“I would have so picked you up.”

“Bold of you to assume I would have let you.”

He frowns, and she giggles and pecks his lips.

“I would have loved to have met you fifteen years ago,” she muses. “What did you look like?”

“Pretty much what I looked like when we did meet.”

“Same hair?”

“Different.”

“That would have been a bummer.”

“What is it with you and the hair?”

“I like it. It suits you. It’s very sexy. How about if we met...I don’t know...twenty years ago?”

“I still would have been in the SASR.”

“Sexy. A man in uniform.”

He chuckles. “I was far from sexy.”

“I highly doubt that. There’s no way you couldn’t have been sexy. What about high school?”

“I was tall and skinny. That’s about it. I had longer hair. Like TJ wears his.”

“You were cute as hell then. I would have had a crush on you, for sure.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Why?”

“Because when I was fifteen, you were only ten.”

“That’s a very good point. I mean, I would have still crushed on you but it definitely wouldn’t have reciprocated. So to go back and time and meet you, I would have to meet military you. So, say I was nineteen, you would have been twenty four.”

“And married.”

She scowls. “Stop ruining it for me! Let’s pretend you weren’t married then. That you were still single. And we met in a bar. Or at the beach. Would I have liked what I saw?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I didn’t look that much different back then, I guess. A lot less scars, not as much ink. Not as much hair; had a brush cut back then. And I wasn’t as big.”

“Were you jacked?”

“A little. I worked out. Not near as much as I do now.”

“I would have hooked up with you. Those eyes would have reeled me in. Then I would have heard the voice and I would have been a goner. You wouldn’t have been able to get rid of me.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted to.”

“I love when you say all the right things,” she declares, and then once more settles her head on his shoulder. Fingers slowly -and repeatedly- running through his hair. “We’re going to be okay right?” She sounds close to tears once again. “We’ll get past this, won’t we? Tell me we’ll get past this.”

He tightens his hold on her; then drops a kiss on the top of her head. “We will.”

[lesbrarians]

Junkrat/Roadhog: Voyages Ch 15

This is the end – post-chapter note over on AO3! Thanks so much for reading!

Title: Voyages

Characters: Junkrat, Roadhog

Rating: R

Summary:  After a rocky start and some ups and downs, Junkrat and Roadhog are officially partners, even if things haven’t progressed quite as far as Junkrat would like. With his treasure at the heart of their grandiose plans, they take their adventures overseas and leave their mark on the world, for better or worse. (Mostly for worse. They’re criminals.) Sequel to “Origins.”

—

Junkrat woke up to the smell of smoke and the suffocating sensation that something was horribly wrong. He extricated himself from beneath the dead weight of Roadhog’s arm and blearily stumbled out of the room to investigate. The air was warm, warmer than it had any right to be. He wandered down the corridor and turned the corner.

His eyes were still heavy with sleep. He rubbed them with his fists, convinced that they weren’t working right. It was the only explanation for the wall of smoke and fire that stretched down the tunnel in front of him. That, or he was dreaming.

He inched closer to the flames, his face burning up as he approached, and reached his hand out. He was used to extreme heat, but he couldn’t make it more than a couple metres away from the fire before the blaze became unbearable. This was no dream.

He could smell petrol and the foul smell of burning rubbish. If he glanced down, he could see the clearly demarcated line where the fire stopped in front of him. It stretched all the way out of sight, presumably back to the entrance. Someone had doused the area with petrol before setting it ablaze. Refuse served as tinder, fueling the flame long after the petrol had been consumed, and it filled the air with dense, grey smoke that smelled like rotten eggs and stung Junkrat’s eyes.

Smoke billowed in his face, and he coughed, pulling his sweater up over his mouth and nose. No one knew where they had set up base, no one except Lee, and they’d butchered the entire triad–

Junkrat froze, still dangerously close to the fire as he furiously tried to remember whether or not he’d seen Lee the previous night. She cut a distinctive figure with her facial tattoo, and the more he thought about it, the more certain he became that he hadn’t seen her face among the nameless gang members he’d fought the night before.

He swore and sprinted back to the room, which was growing hazy with smoke. He urgently shook Roadhog awake, trying to hold back his coughing. “‘Hog, ‘Hog, okay, don’t freak out, but there might be a tiny fire outside.”

Roadhog sat upright and looked around the room. The gas mask filtered out the smoke, which was the only reason why he had managed to sleep through it. He stared at Junkrat, trying to make him out through the fog. All at once, he stood up and left to see for himself. Junkrat hopped around the room, gathering up their stuff and haphazardly shoving it into their duffel bag. He dumped a bottle of water on a rag and tied it around his face, a makeshift bandanna to help filter out the smoke. It made it a little easier to breathe. It took two trips, but he lugged their belongings outside, where he found Roadhog staring at the wall of fire.

“That’s no tiny fire.”

“Might’ve been a slight under-exaggeration.” There was no way they were getting past this. “Junkenstein!” Junkrat said suddenly. They had made the executive decision to sleep in a different room than the one they used as their mad lab, particularly once their creation began to reach its full form. It was a terrifying, if awe-inspiring, creature, and even without a brain hooked up to it, they weren’t quite comfortable enough to fall asleep with its silhouette lurking in the corners of their eyes. “We gotta go get it, I’m not lettin’ all that work go up in smoke!” He held his breath and ran towards the flames and the doorway that led to their nearly-complete omnic. “You do the heavy liftin’, I’ll take care of all the miscellan–” He stopped abruptly when he turned his head to find that he was entirely alone. Roadhog was still rooted to the spot further down the tunnel.

Junkrat looked at the doorway, then back at Roadhog. He wasn’t sure he could drag his beast of an omnic back himself, and regardless, he didn’t want to be separated from Roadhog. And yet, he didn’t want to force Roadhog to get any closer to the fire. He’d never seen his bodyguard frozen by fear before, and it was deeply unsettling. Junkrat didn’t bear any childhood traumas that he was aware of – for as twitchy as he could be, he wasn’t easily traumatised. He had a skewed worldview, a faulty memory, and the inability to give a shit. He simply wasn’t affected by negative things that occurred in his past. It had never even occurred to him that Roadhog could be different from him, that he could have been scarred by the events of his lifetime, enough to shed his former life entirely. It had never even occurred to him that the man who had so brutally and gleefully murdered dozens not 24 hours ago could be the same man who was paralysed by the sight of a fire.

Junkrat looked back at the doorway. “Ah, fuck it,” he muttered to himself. He turned around and ran back towards Roadhog, abandoning the project he had so meticulously labored over and his dreams of reigning supreme over all omnics. “Run!” he yelled, grabbing Roadhog’s hand.

They ran until they were out of breath, venturing further into the bunker than they had ever gone before.

Junkrat bent over, hands on his knees as he panted shallowly. He already regretted his decision to run. There was precious little air as it was, and he was breathing too hard.

Roadhog didn’t have the same issue, given his gas mask’s air filters, but he had his own problems to worry about. “Couldn’t smell the smoke,” he muttered, preoccupied with his own thoughts. “Coulda slept right through it and died.”

“Well, y’didn’t,” Junkrat said. “That’s whatcha got me for.”

“You might not always be around.”

“That’s not ominous at all.”

Roadhog gave a noncommittal hum in response.

Junkrat straightened up and looked at him. “Tell ya what, we make it out alive, I’ll build you yer own portable smoke detector.”

“Good.”

The insufferable heat was lessening, replaced by a distinctly uncomfortable clamminess as they delved further into the damp underground bunker. They had outrun the worst of the smoke, but the air wasn’t getting any easier to breathe. Their only way out, and their only source of fresh air, had been sealed off.

With nowhere else to go, they kept walking.

“It’s happening again,” Roadhog said, and there was something odd in his voice, something raw and painful that Junkrat had never heard before.

He kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the ground, tracking the bobbing light of the torch Roadhog held to illuminate their path into the unknown.

“I was 18. Woke up like this. In the middle of the night, house burning down around me. It was something stupid, a frayed space heater cord or something, don’t fully remember. Lost my whole family that night.”

“Oi.” Junkrat didn’t know what to say. This kind of vulnerability was unfamiliar territory for him, and it left him feeling supremely awkward.

“Moved to Australia after that.”

Junkrat nodded. That was one of the few things he did know about Roadhog’s past, that he was originally from New Zealand.

“Brought one of the pigs with me, took up where my parents left off.”

Junkrat imagined a young Roadhog isolating himself in the Australian Outback, where he could be left alone and raise his pigs in peace, his last tie to his recently deceased family. “Which pig? Ink?”

He thought he heard the faintest glimmer of a smile in Roadhog’s voice. “No, it was Ink’s great-grandmother. Betsy.”

“Where’s the pun in that name?”

“No pun. My mother named her.”

“Guess ya didn’t inherit yer sense of humour from her, huh?”

“No. She was serious. Quiet, unless she was mad. She loved Betsy, though.”

“Oh. Sorry she died.” The words felt empty, but he had no idea how else to address a decades-old loss.

“Yeah.” Roadhog sighed. “Me too. Lost a lot that night. Lungs have been bad ever since. Then the radiation…” He trailed off, but Junkrat got the gist of it. All of the smoke inhalation caused damage enough, but the radiation poisoning destroyed them, taking him from asthmatic to perpetual gas mask wearer.

Junkrat was fervently hoping that his own lungs would recover just fine, if they managed to survive this, when Roadhog spoke up again. “You saved me.”

Junkrat looked up at him in surprise. “What, me? When?”

“Just now. With the fire. Not sure I would’ve been able to move without you.”

“Ah. Well, y’know.” He shrugged. “Figured it was about time I returned the favour, what with all the times you’ve saved my arse.”

They were well into the belly of the beast by now, the walls claustrophobic around them and the air stale and hard to breathe. The temperature was dropping, and Junkrat jerked back when he accidentally brushed against a wet and slimy wall.

He forged slightly ahead of Roadhog, a shield between his bodyguard and whatever laid ahead. Whether it was his usual self-destructive boldness or a desire to protect Roadhog that motivated him, he couldn’t say. Whatever it was, he kept a few paces in front of him.

“Eugh!” Junkrat rounded a corner and plunged into knee-deep water – cold, plague-infested sludge, the contents of which were better left unknown. Mud and filth never bothered him, but the slop was unpleasant and freezing and smelled horrific even by his standards. “Holy shit, get me out, get me out!”

Roadhog hauled him out of the mixture of water and waste and decomposing matter, and Junkrat slumped down against the wall.

The atmosphere was thin. He’d used up precious air and energy by yelling, and he was becoming increasingly aware that without any air circulation, he was going to asphyxiate.

“I’m gonna die,” he said, masking the weakness in his voice by dramatically flinging his arm over his eyes.

Roadhog silently sat down next to him. Junkrat peeked at him from under his arm to find him staring directly at the wall opposite them.

He dropped his arm. Roadhog’s taciturn agreement terrified him, as much as he wanted to pretend otherwise. Roadhog was usually the first one to call him out on his melodrama; the fact that he didn’t immediately shoot him down with a “No, you’re not” meant that he wasn’t over-exaggerating.

They were going to die in here.

Junkrat rested his head on Roadhog’s shoulder. Part of him wanted to be freaking out, to refuse to accept death, to try and seek a way out, but the other part of him, the part of him that was beginning to severely feel the effects of carbon monoxide poisoning, was tired.  And even if he hadn’t been sluggish and exhausted, he knew it was futile. They were underground, deep in the heart of a bunker that was carved into the earth. He didn’t have any blocks of C4 left in his arsenal to try and blast a way out through the ceiling, and even if he did, he’d probably cause a cave-in in the process and quicken their deaths. “Never thought this’d be how I’d go. Thought there’d be more explosions and fun things. Yer the only consistent part.”

To his surprise, Roadhog gave a wheezy laugh. “You always pictured me dying with you?”

Junkrat lifted his head up to look at him and raised his brows. “‘Course!”

���Pretty screwed up.”

Junkrat listlessly let his head fall back down on Roadhog’s shoulder. “Eh.”

There was a moment’s pause. “If I have to die, I’m glad it’s with you.”

Junkrat pulled down the makeshift bandana he’d tied around his face and turned his head to press a kiss to Roadhog’s clavicle. “Me too, ‘Hog. Me too–” He broke off in a fit of coughing. The mucus he hacked up tasted ashy in his mouth.

Roadhog sat up straighter in alarm and fished around for a can of hogdrogen. “Take a breather,” he said.

Junkrat obliged, and the hit of compressed chemicals helped ease the sudden pains in his chest. He hadn’t inhaled that much smoke, all things considered, but the rapidly dwindling supply of oxygen was suffocating him and exacerbating the symptoms. They both knew that the hogdrogen was just delaying the inevitable.

He let the can fall to his side, and they sat there in silence, waiting death out together. There wasn’t much more that needed to be said.

Junkrat’s fog-addled brain was making it very hard for his eyes to focus on much of anything. He stared at the blank patch of wall opposite them, illuminated by the beam of the torch in Roadhog’s lap.

Roadhog shifted, and the torch moved with him, shedding light on a seam they hadn’t noticed before. Roadhog saw it first, being considerably more in control of his mental faculties.

“A door,” he said, shining the torch further up the wall. The heavy metal door was dirty enough that it had blended in with the tunnel walls, and even Roadhog had to strain to wrench it open. It was a mirror image of the entrance they had first broken into, with a long set of crumbling stone steps that led up to the surface.

A spark of hope reignited in Junkrat – maybe, if they made it out of this godforsaken bunker in the next ten minutes, they could survive this after all. He struggled to his feet.

They hit a barrier at the top of the stairs.

“It’s walled up,” Roadhog said. “We’re still fucked.”

“No, no, we can do this!” Junkrat was desperate. He’d resigned himself to his fate, but now that he had been given this glimmer of hope, he would hold onto it until the bitter end. He ran his hands over the mortar and rapped on it with his knuckles. He didn’t think it was solid concrete the whole way through. “Gimme one of my mines.”

Roadhog’s hum was doubtful as he handed over a concussion mine.

They crouched at the bottom of the stairs, ears plugged as Junkrat chanted, “Three… two… one…”

With a resounding boom, a cloud of dust and smoke billowed skyward, and Junkrat’s hopes soared – but when he scrambled back up the stairs, they plummeted once more. The detonation had left behind a crater at the point of impact, but it failed to blast a hole in the wall. Freedom remained just out of reach.

Junkrat sank to his knees, woozy and defeated.

“Move.” Roadhog pushed past him and slammed his shoulder into the wall, a human battering ram.

Again.

And again.

Junkrat closed his eyes, his head full of nothing but the sound of each deafening boom and Roadhog’s grunts of exertion.

There was a great crash, and sunlight flooded through his closed eyelids as Roadhog broke through the wall. His eyes flew open as a gust of cold, fresh air hit him, and he gasped. It felt like the world was spinning when he stood up, and it was sheer will to live that enabled him to stumble out into the blinding light of day.

They burst out onto a sidewalk, narrowly missing a gaggle of pedestrians, who were looking at them like they had two heads. Junkrat collapsed on his hands and knees and brushed them off. “Don’t mind us, just… takin’ five.” They side-skirted him, whispering furiously. He rolled over onto his back and covered his face with his hands to block out the harsh sunlight.

Roadhog sat down heavily on the ground next to him, and they both rested, breathing hard.

“I give up, Roadhog,” Junkrat finally said, voice weary. “All this tryin’ and failin’… I’m full up of it. We’ve been workin’ too hard. Maybe we should just… not do this anymore. For now, anyway. Put me treasure back in the tire where it belongs and go have some fun.”

“We deserve a vacation,” Roadhog said.

Junkrat let his hands fall from his face so he could blindly grope for his partner’s hand. “Too roight, we do.” He found the thick wool of Roadhog’s sweater, the sleeve caked with blood and dirt up to the elbow. “Did you know London has crown jewels?” he continued, affecting a conversational tone. “Let’s go be kings. You can be my duke!”

“Pretty sure a king is higher than a duke,” Roadhog pointed out.

Junkrat acknowledged this with an airy, flippant wave.  ”Eh, details, details.” He felt his way down Roadhog’s arm to meet his hand.

“Can I wear the crown?”

“You mean the crown of King Jamison Fawkes the First? That’s my crown. But really, c’mon, what’s mine is yers at this point. ‘Course ya can wear the crown.” Junkrat cracked open his eyes to blearily gaze up at Roadhog. With the sun at his back, his head was surrounded by a glowing halo of light that looked positively ethereal, and all Junkrat could think about was how lucky he was. “And y’d look radiant in it, mate.”

Roadhog gave a soft huff of laughter. “Whatever happened to fifty-fifty?”

He wrapped his hand around Roadhog’s fingers. “Details,” he repeated, his eyes drifting shut once more. “Details.”