#two swedish long haired brunettes oh my

[ratatatastic]

the differing angles of the hit™ they wanted to make it loud and clear that two beautiful queens (lombo and mika) came crashing into each other and another (stenny) narrowly avoided being collateral or alternatively three long haired brunettes walk into a bar only 2 come out

florida panthers @ new york rangers game 2 | 5.24.24

[halfway-happyyy]

She’s My Kind Of Girl

AN: this started as an idea of the lovely @bskarsgardlove92‘s and i kind of just rolled with it! i hope you enjoy, and as always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated! 

synopsis: Alex dresses in drag to attend a costume party with his girl, as one half of Swedish superband, ABBA! Absolute fluff ensues!

“Though you may hail from a long and distinguished line of inexplicably talented thespians, I know you well enough by now to recognize when you're not telling me something.”

Alexander passed a serviette over the front of his mouth and swallowed back a bite of salmon, cocking an eyebrow in amusement. “I beg your pardon?”

She sipped deeply from her glass of chilled wine, and cocked her head to the side, eyeing him. “Don’t play coy with me, Alex. You were on the line with Eija when I came into the kitchen. That glint in your eyes says so much and then nothing at all in equal measure.”

“One could almost say that you know me too well, kid.”

"Almost," She grinned around the delicate rim of her glass. “Now spill it, Skarsgård.”

Alexander leaned back against the oak chair, dangling a long arm over the back of it. “Dad’s seventieth birthday is next month. Eija’s hosting a party back home for him, and she wants us to be there.”

She thought fondly of Alexander’s father often; he had been one of the first faces of his family that she’d had the privilege of meeting when her and Alexander had started taking things a little more seriously. Where her own father figure had been virtually non-existent most of the time, she was blessed to have such a wonderful father-in-law in Stellan. He was such an integral part of their lives that the thought of not returning home to Sweden to celebrate him was almost too much to bear.

“I’ll look into flights tomorrow morning. What kind of get together is it? I would imagine knowing Eija as I do, that she's got something wonderful up her sleeve?”

Alexander's lips curved up into a devilish smirk and he cocked his head to the side.

“She's hosting a costume party.”

There it was…

“God, I can only imagine the ideas that beautiful mind of yours has already dreamed up.”

Alexander tipped the rest of his wine into his mouth, his blue eyes glittering mischievously in the low light from the dining room lamp. “Hm, you know how much dad loves ABBA…”

It was the precise tone of his voice that she reckoned prepared her for what was coming next. “Oh boy,” She giggled under her breath.

“Well, I propose that we go as Björn and Agnetha.”

She mulled the thought of it over in her head, and then an idea swam into her mind's eye that caused a smirk similar to her other half's to tug the edges of her lips skyward. “I'll do it on one condition, my love.”

His eyebrow lifted in intrigue. “I'm all ears.”

“I will do it if I can be the Björn to your Agnetha.”

His laughter- utterly loud and booming, filled every square space of their home with a warm and joyous sound. When it subsided, he leveled his gaze with hers and she noticed immediately, the blush that had risen to the apples his cheeks. After a moment, he nodded his head finitely. “You've got yourself a deal, kid.”

*

She glanced at the watch face beneath the bell sleeve of her silver, sequined blouse, and sighed heavily. “C'mon dancing queen, we haven’t got all night…” Alexander emerged from the bathroom door a moment later, a blonde, perfectly styled wig fell below the cups of a filled-out bra.

“I must say,” He reached toward her to tousle the brunette wig atop of her head, a smirk in place on his features. “Silver and forest green sequins do wonders for you, kid. Or should I say- Björn.”

“Oh hush,” She giggled. “I can hardly imagine the outfit you’ve conjured up for this evening." They gazed at each other in silence for a moment before she gestured to her vanity. "Shall I do your makeup?”

Alexander shifted from foot to foot. “If you wouldn't mind,” He murmured.

She stood on tiptoes to twirl strands of blonde hair around her finger. “It would be an honour, Agnetha.”

She followed Alexander to the vanity next to their bay window and turned on the lamp so that it illuminated his face perfectly. Pulling up a photo of Agnetha on her phone for reference, she set to work. “She sometimes likes to wear bold colours on her eyes, so that’s the look we’re going for this evening.” She started the process by moisturizing and priming his face, opting out of a foundation, and using a tinted moisturizer instead. “Alright, close your eyes for me, my love.” He did as he was told, and she allowed herself a moment to admire how breathtaking he truly was. After a couple of seconds of searching, she found a palette that was made up of different shades of purple and applied a muted lavender hue over both of his lids. Wanting to go a little darker, she blended a violet shade into his creases and stood back to admire her handiwork. Nearly done, she decided to go dramatic on the eyeliner, but when she reached for her favourite tube of mascara, Alexander faltered.

“I don’t need… falsies?”

She blanched. “Alex, I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but your natural eyelashes are beautiful,” She took his face in her hands and gently turned it to the side, gesturing to his left eye. “Look how long and healthy they are. I think I have some cheap lashes lying around somewhere if you really want them, but I think a few coats of mascara will do wonderfully.”

He reached up to press his lips to the underside of her jaw, shaking his head. “No, I trust you.”

She kissed the tip of his nose and got back to work. “You’ve done magnificent so far. I’m just about finished…” She glanced around for her mauve pink lipstick, held a hand beneath his chin and applied the colour to his lips. “Alright, rub your lips together for me please.” She watched him do as she asked. “Now pat them together, as if you were smacking them.” She waited. “Alright, for the finishing touch,” She reached for her bottle of setting spray, told him to close his eyes, and let the mist settle over his face. “You my love, are finished and ready for the evening.

He leaned forward to inspect her handiwork closely, and a large smile grew on his face. “You’ve done a wonderful job, kid.”

She nodded towards the washroom door. “Go on then, Chiquitita. The party awaits.”

“You and your ABBA puns, huh?” Alexander smirked, before closing the door behind him.

“Oh, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Just wait until your brothers get a hold of us.” She snickered. While she waited for Alexander to wrap up, she began lacing up the white platform boots she had found weeks ago. They added an extra four inches to her height, and she fought back a giggle as she sipped the last remnants of her pre-game cocktail.

Ten minutes elapsed, and she began to feel the familiar tug of inebriation deep in her belly. Suddenly, Alexander cleared his throat. “I’m coming out. Are you ready?”

“I’ve literally never been more ready in my life.” She deadpanned.

Alexander emerged from the washroom, and all she could do was gape at his figure as he stood poised in the doorway. Lord knows where, but he had managed to find a hot pink jumpsuit with a silver-sequined trim around the neckline and a heart-shaped cutout that showed off his adorable, trim bellybutton perfectly. He donned glossy, white boots on his feet that only added to his seemingly immense height. “Well, what do you think?” He asked, dubiously.

She swallowed hard. “I have lots of feelings about it actually… but our car is here, and your father awaits.” She held her arm out for him to take. “Shall we go, my beautiful Agnetha?”

Alexander accepted her arm gratefully and bent down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Lead the way, Björn.”

“What are your brothers going as?” She asked, as they slid into the backseat of the sedan.

“Uh, I think Bill and his family said that they were going as Disney characters. Gustaf and Valter are going as Top Gun’s Maverick and Goose, respectively,” He paused so that they could share a laugh at that. “And I’m not sure yet what Sam and his family are doing.”

She scratched contemptuously at the back of her head. “I hate this wig already.”

Alexander snorted into his drink. “But it looks so good on you… the way it kind of frames your face in that ‘the 70’s called and they want their hair back’ kind of way…”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s the heart-shaped bellybutton window for me.”

Alexander guffawed loudly. “Oh really? We're playing that game? Well then, it’s the extra four or five inches that you’re wearing but you still don’t reach past my sternum, for me.”

They rounded the corner to Stellan’s street, and laughter bubbled up out of her mouth like a song. “It’s the fact that you look better than most women I know, for me.” This sent Alexander into such a frenzy that she paid the driver herself. “Alright, Agnetha, I have a dream and it involves you exiting this vehicle tonight,” She nudged his back to get him out of the open car door. “Let's go, girlfriend.” They ambled up the pathway hand-in-hand and stood giggling in front of Stellan’s door. Roaring laughter and bits and pieces of broken Swedish and English conversation could be heard from inside as her finger hovered above the doorbell. “You ready?”

Alexander nodded, finitely. “Go on then,”

She rang the bell and waited for what felt like years, before the door flung open and Eija greeted them in a demure, feline costume. Her face was disbelieving at first, but then her painted-on whiskers twitched; she cracked and laughter roared from her belly in happy waves. When she could speak again, she shook her head gleefully. “Come in, come in you two. What an honour to have one half of the world’s greatest band with us!” She ushered them into Stellan’s lively home, the scent of a freshly-cooked feast hung tantalizing in the air, and made her mouth water hungrily. “Just wait until papa sees you!” She clapped her hands merrily, pulling them into the adjacent living room.

Their entrance caused mass hysteria; pure laugher on a level that was hard to fathom. Gustaf approached them first, a pair of sunglasses sat perched atop his head, and he was sporting a mustache. Clad in a pair of army-green coveralls, the badge on his chest simply read, ‘Gus.’ “I have to say that when Alex first told me what the two of you were planning, this was not what I had in mind…” He scratched absentmindedly at the bridge of his nose, his smile wry. “But you two absolutely knocked it out of the park. Well done, brother.” He belly laughed, and wrapped an arm around Alex’s shoulders, and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I can’t wait until dad sees you.”

Valter appeared before them next, clad in the exact same costume as Gustaf accept that his badge read, ‘Maverick’, and he had on over his blue eyes, a pair of mirrored Rayban aviators. “Mamma Mia, Agnetha! Such lovely bosoms you have!”

A hand appeared out of the abyss and sneaked its way toward Alexander’s ample breasts, but the younger Skarsgård's plan was foiled before he could get there with Alexander slapping it away just in the nick of time. “Touch them and die, Valter.” He beamed, devilishly.

Valter's grin was sheepish. “My apologies Agnetha- Björn.”

She tossed a wink his way. “Turns out she can take care of herself just fine.”

“Alright, alright, where are they?” Stellan’s achingly familiar voice- unmistakable anywhere, boomed throughout the room. When he caught sight of them, he stood stock-still and tilted his head back, his rolling laughter loud and genuine. It caused pleasant goosebumps to rise in waves over her arms, and she couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “This is it,” He announced. “I couldn’t dare to ask for another thing after this. My eldest boy and his love coming in drag as Agnetha and Björn? This is seventy, folks!” He closed the distance between them to wrap them both in a crushing bear hug. When he pulled away, his eyes were glittering brightly beneath the low light of the many lamps scattered around the living room. “How unbelievably wonderful it is to see you both here.” He kissed both of their cheeks over again, his smile wide and utterly contagious. “On a totally unrelated note- that you and Björn here have similar situations happening… ehm, up top, is really quite miraculous, isn’t it?”

Alexander rolled his azure eyes, laughing loudly at that. “Happy birthday, dad.”

“And what a wonderful birthday it turned out to be. Come, come. We have much to discuss.”

The night carried on in much the same fashion; drinks were had (and spilt), laughter was shared, pictures were taken- and all the while, she just felt unimaginably blessed to be a part of it all. Closer towards the evening’s finish, she felt Alexander’s hand tighten around her own, and she knew then, without a shadow of a doubt that this was her family. This was where she belonged.

[thelionbyname]

Prequel part 1

(This is a prequel to “The Pole, The American And The Four Brits” and all the hermits have superpowers I guess... Tell me what you think and if I should continue this story. Anyway, enjoy!)

The fancy room was filling up fast. More and more people were arriving, and, though the room was the size of a ball room, -because that’s exactly what it was- it was difficult to see through the crowd to the other side of the room. It was rather noisy, too. There was a seemingly random combination of accents bouncing around. Canadian, Swedish, German. But most dominant were British and American. The American, of course, came in many different forms. There were the smooth Tennessee sounds, the less refined Arizona pronunciation. There was a mix of other, less obvious dialects too. All around, in many different tongues, people chatted with each other, catching up, having fun.

A trio of men were standing at a high table, champagne in hand. The Britt of the group said, “So, Tango, what is your new year’s resolution?”

“I want to teach everyone here how to block their minds from telepaths like Cleo and I. It gives you all a bit of privacy,” a blonde American answered, apparently named Tango.

“How about you, Impulse?” The Britt asked the third person at their table, a handsome brunette, who answered with a voice in which you can always hear the smile.

“I honestly don’t know, Zed. I was hoping you guys could give me some inspiration.”

Another British voice boomed through the speakers all around, interrupting their conversation. “Good evening Hermits! Welcome to the party of the century. It’s probably also the last party of the century, because tonight, we enter the year 2000!”

Somebody shouted, “Whooo! X!” and cheers erupted from the crowd. 

“That’s my cue,” Impulse said mischievously, surprising Zedaph, but not Tango, who heard Impulse’s intentions in his thoughts. They grinned at each other.

“What? What am I missing?” Zed asked.

“You’ll see,” Impulse answered, setting his champagne down on the table and walking over to a makeshift stage on the other side of the room. Three other people were already there. Although “people” may be a bit of a stretch. There were two people, and one maroon-coloured wolf. As Impulse approached the stage, the large wolf’s fur rippled, and it morphed into a man in a red shirt and jeans, with long maroon hair pulled back into a ponytail. His hair was the same shade as his wolf counterpart’s.

“Hey Ren!” Impulse greets him, not at all surprised by the transformation that had just taken place before his eyes.

“Hi Impulse! Long time no see,” Ren responded. They embrace each other and turn to the other two on the stage.

The one who had been speaking through the microphone before, X, was a tall, kind-looking man with an air of authority. He stood facing a man clad in iron armor. The latter gazed through his helmet with a pair of bright blue eyes. The knight noticed Impulse and Ren looking at him, and smiled at them.

“Hey guys! Happy almost new year!” he said enthusiastically. He took off his helmet and wedged it under his arm. The polished metal gleamed as the light found it, shining into X’s eyes and temporarily blinding him. “Oh, sorry Xisuma” The knight said quickly, switching his helmet to his other arm.

“That’s all right, Wels,” Xisuma responded, looking at him through the vague pink spots in his vision. “Anyway, enough hanging around, let’s get this party started! Wels, if you will.”

Wels, seeming to know what Xisuma meant, nodded and disappeared. A second later, he reappeared at the back of the stage with a large drum set. He then disappeared again and reappeared in front of Xisuma, holding two electric guitars and handing one to Ren and one to Xisuma. Neither of them so much as flinched as Wels popped in and out of existence. They accepted the guitars without question and headed to the middle of the stage together. 

Impulse walked over to the drum set, trying to hide his nerves, but jittering inside. Several people were looking at them now, and as Impulse watched, understanding and excitement transformed their features. Tango and Zedaph had made their way to the front of the crowd, and Zedaph seemed to finally be back in the loop. His teeth were bared in an encouraging grin as he caught Impulse’s eye. That helped. Impulse’s heart rate slowed a bit, and he managed to smile back. More confident now, he marched over to the back of the stage and took a seat on the drum throne.

The music that suddenly bounced around the room was deafening. Wels’ voice broke through the anticipation and thrummed right to everyone’s hearts. Impulse’s arms crossed in all sorts of directions as the drumsticks in his hands danced across the batters. And Xisuma and Ren had their fingers waltzing between snares, sending constant thrills through the air.

And people danced.

A trio, one with a very noticeable black moustache, one with a robotic eye and one with dirty blond hair, spun around in circles whilst holding hands. Plenty of duos danced around them. One of the only three girls laughed as she was being pulled into a dance with a smiling man wearing glasses, with a big @ sign on his shirt. The other two girls were already swaying to the beat, their hair bouncing around their shoulders. 

But suddenly, through the laughter, through the music, through the conversations, came screams. First one, then two, then a dozen. The hermits abruptly went quiet, listening anxiously. Everything went pitch black.

[daydreamingabouthockey]

A Bookish Meet Cue (Zach Hyman imagine)

Blurb: you go Christmas shopping for your niece and unbeknown to you Zach Hyman helps you find his book.

Word count: 1,900

Note: I got this idea after going to a book signing for my favourite soccer player and some lady said super loud who is he? I was a total mess meeting him he asked me if I go to games and I said I used to because I’m too embarrassed to tell him tickets are way too expensive to go anymore. But anyway this was a blast to write and I had so much fun thinking of this. Y/N is for you to insert your name and a little background you are a history major at Uni of Toronto. Feedback or just a comment is appreciated!

It had been a really stressful day and you were rushing around to find those last minute gifts for Christmas.The last person on your list was your six year old niece. You had no idea what to buy her but, you knew she liked ice hockey and she had been chatting on about some book that a famous hockey player had written and had recently been released so you guessed that was a good idea.

You started the drive to your nearest Indigo book store. You pulled into the parking lot with a sudden sense of panic. It was a quarter to five and you had no idea what time they closed. You Rushed to park praying it wasn’t five.

You ran into the store, they were still open but the sign signalled they closed in fifteen minutes. Running around the store, you desperately looked for the book. You got your phone out scrolling through your texts for the name of the author, mm it seemed like he was called Hyman. You cursed desperately looking around the bookstore and nearly knocking over a stand. “Do you need some help?” A voice asked you look up to see a brown haired man smiling widely. He had jeans, a white polo neck and a chunky knit cardigan on, that made you think made him look cuddly. Very bookish. Finally someone who works here. “Yes I’m looking for a book by an author called Zach Hyman?”

“Ah yeah that’s over here,” he said showing you to table, there was only one left. “Oh that was lucky,” you say “this guy must be popular,” you chuckle to the boy. He smiled sheepishly “yeah kind of,” he says shyly.

“My niece has been so excited for this book, she loves hockey,” you ramble

“Oh she’s a big maple leafs fan then?” He asked his eyes suddenly lighting up “Oh yeah huge her and my sister watch every game on TV,”

“Do they go to the games ?” He asked.

“No tickets are way too expensive,”

“Oh,” he says almost a little sad

“Yeah, like they stood by where they arrive and leave but she couldn’t get close enough,for even a photo, but you know these guys are busy ” you say with a shrug.

“Oh that’s sad to hear, i’m sure they would love to meet her if they got the chance, are you not a fan?” He asked

“No not really,” you say with a shrug.

“Well maybe I could change you mind on that sometime,” he says.

“Maybe you can,” you say flirting back.

You looked at your watch again. “Oh shoot I have to go thank you for your help,” you said suddenly trailing realising you have no idea what his name is “Zach,” he finished “and it’s no problem,” he says with a smile walking off.

You continue walking around suddenly when it dawns on you that you never got his number. You crane your head around the store, peering over the tall bookshelf like a meerkat, but to no avail, cute boy shop boy was gone. You sigh coming to the conclusion that it was not meant to be, maybe he had already gone home. You could come back another day but even if you did it was A. Creepy stalkerish b. He might not even be here and C this book store was on the complete opposite side of town, like a full fifty minutes from your apartment. So really there wasn’t much logic in that. You still had a few more minutes till the store closed and the store was quiet. You allowed yourself to relax, wandering around the bookstore tracing your fingers over the spines till you touched a book that took your interest.there was something Inherently calming about bookstores. You managed to pick up a book for yourself, some cute new YA book called “Meet cue” which sounded like the perfect light and fluffy read after all the boring history books you’d been reading for college.

Finally a tannoy came over the store that the store was closing and you knew it was

time to pay you wandered up to a desk with two young guys. Your face lit up when you saw it was Zach, the cute guy who helped you earlier. His friend the blonde on the left was a typical hipster. Blonde hair with a black toque, round wire framed glasses and a beard. He had his feet up on the desk showing off his extremely ripped jeans and expensive looking white trainers. Zach pushed the blondes feet off the desk. “Willie this is a bookstore not your living room have some respect dude,”

“My legs hurt,” the blonde wined

“You did a long work out of course they are going to hurt,” he sighed. You chuckle at the pair arguing like an old married couple. “Hi again,” You ask putting the book down in front of them. Expecting to pay. “Hi,” the brunette said with a wide smile. You dig into your bag for some money, “so what’s the damage how much do I owe?”

“erm we don’t actually work here, but he can sign it for you,” the blonde haired boy said pointing to a sign which had a photo of the brown haired boy smiling, hockey player and author Zach Hyman signing his book today!

“you don’t work here,” you say slowly You can feel your cheeks burning. Oh no how embarrassing. Not only did Zach not even work there, but you had flirted with a famous hockey player who probably thought you were just doing it to get free tickets.

“Not unless, he’s got a side job on top of his successful hockey career” Willie laughed. Zach shot Willie a glare. “Will,” Zach snap, Willie stuck his tongue out at Zach. “sorry about him,” but he pauses when he realised he doesn’t even know your name “y/n” you finish. “Y/n” he says and oh boy there was that cute smile again “Let me sign this though, for your niece right?” He says encouraging you to pass him the book. “Yeah,”

“great, y/n was telling me her niece was a big fan of the leafs watches every game,” Zach says directing the conversation to his friend Willie. Who she was guessing was also a player.“Oh yeah she’s only five but she loves pointing to players and telling us their names. “Does she have a favourite player?” Zach asks

“Well it’s obviously going to be me,” Willie boasts putting his hands on his chest

“I actually think it’s, erm Marner,” you reply scrunching up your nose as you tried to remember the name she had been yelling only yesterday. “Better luck next time buddy, “ Zach laughed slapping him on the shoulder clearly unfazed by not being named the favourite. “Marns of course it’s him, stupid canadian boy he’s practically a kid that’s why they love him,” Willie mutters under his breath. Clearly not miffed at all. “what’s her name? ” Zach asked now passing over the book to Willie to sign. “Daisy,”you say smiling “Cute name, well tell Daisy anytime she wants to come to a game, she is very welcome to, we’ll have two tickets waiting for her,”

“No no you don’t have to do that,” you say now embarrassingly waving your hands, you never wanted their pity. “No honestly, we hate disappointing our fans, in fact we’d love her to come down and meet us after the game and I still need to convince you that hockey is great” Zach says

“You’ve never been to a game?” Willie asks incredulously “but you live in Toronto?”

“Yeah,” you laugh awkwardly “it just never seemed like my thing” you lie not wanting to tell another person about the fact you couldn’t afford it as you were a poor college student. “Can I sign your other book,” Zach asks suddenly says pointing to the other book tucked under your arm “But it’s not one of yours” you say dumbly looking down at your copy of “meet cue” He shrugs and passed it over to him anyway, not watching what he is scrawling with his sharpie. Instead you make polite conversation with Willie about plans for Christmas. He seems to be a pretty funny guy “Oh shoot we have to head off, we have a team to thing but it was nice meeting you y/n” he says handing you both books back “You too,” you say waving goodbye. Thank god you never did ask for his number, that could have been awkward. You wander towards the door before quickly realising you never paid for the books. You stride to the real checkout, before they accuse you of shoplifting. It was only when you got to your car you remember to read Zach’s note in Lily’s book. You open it to the first page where he has written the note in beautiful cursive writing.

To Daisy

I hope you enjoy your new book! We’d love for you and your family to come to a game and meet the players! Go leafs Go

Love Zach Hyman and William Nylander

You smile so glad he wrote such a nice message. He’s also included a slip of paper with the number for Leafs PR. You smile and put it back on the passenger side seat and that’s when you notice the other book. Your other new book he wrote in.

To Y/N

Our meet cue was pretty cute,in case you’d like to meet again sometime for a coffee

And underneath was his number. You squealed in delight. This could be the start of something. You quickly grab your phone to call your sister and tell her about your weird but wonderful day all thanks to your five year old niece.

The pair of you do go out on a date and end up hitting it off . In Fact you become a regular at ice hockey and yes your five year old niece does have explain all the rules of the game. Zach even keeps his word of meeting the boys after the game. Daisy is starstruck by them all until Mitch starts a dance battle in the middle of the room. William is still slightly sulking about not being the favourite although does slowly manage to win Daisy around with bribes of pucks and his famous Swedish sweets. Eventually you and Zach become a thing you meet officially his teammates who much to Lily’s delight become a regular at your place. She suddenly only wants you to babysit her. William Nylander still likes to make fun of you for mistaking Zach as a bookseller and regularly likes to chirp him about the latest books especially when they drive past a bookstore. “Hey are you not going to work today Zach it’s right there!” You keep the book he wrote in safely on your bookcase. When he eventually proposes to you it’s in at Casa Lomas in the library room obviously. Your niece Lily plays a big part in the wedding since she was the reason you two met.

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Bubble Bath - Leo x Isabella (🍋)

N*FW, 30 Diamond Scene... blah blah blah 🍋

Travelling and heavy schedules make it difficult for some alone time. Not Drabble worthy but a small fic with a happy ending 😂 tagging a few I think might enjoy this! @drakewalkerfantasy​ @cora-nova​ @choicesbyjade​ @debramcg1106​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @the-everlasting-dream​

Isabella took a slow deep breath as she closed her eyes sinking lower into the freestanding slipper bathtub. The hot bubbly water lapped against her sun kissed olive skin whilst she relaxed, the warmth loosened the strain she felt in her shoulders after being on a fight for nine hours to New York. Moving her neck slowly in circles, a slow contended smile began to spread across her face. With a conference the next day and no kids; the petite brunette was enjoying the peace and quiet that came from her trip and with her iPad and wine glass propped up on the bath caddy; she proceeded to catch up with her favourite telenovela whilst her husband was left to pick up the slack at home.

Leo groaned heavily, rubbing his hand down his face. His eyes rolled as Liam began to laugh, “Brother... you do realise we can see you...” Leo’s brow raised in frustration before digging his heels into the ground and pushing his chair back. Leo stood up, walking towards the back of the room lifting the decanter filled with cognac and a glass, “We’ve talked about this for the last two hours...” Leo turned with a smirk across his face as he returned to his seat pouring out the dark, rich liquid before raising it to the delegates on the conference call, “...if I have to listen to this shit for much longer, I’m going to need a little help...” Leo placed his feet onto the table, crossing his legs, “...Prime Minister... continue...” Two hours later, Leo began to shake his head mumbling to himself, “How the fuck does she do this...” as his elbow rested on the table, Leo’s index and middle fingers pressed against his temple making circular motions as he tried to stay awake listening the delegates debating on economic trade deals.

Leo felt himself drifting off, this was not what he signed up for until he felt his watch vibrate and light up. Leo’s sea green eyes were drawn to it’s warm glow; he began to smile as he saw Isabella’s name pop up, ‘Hola mi amor, I am now at the hotel. Call me later after the meeting. Té amo!’ Leo returned his attention to the screen as he overheard a woman clearing her throat, “ahem... Your Majesty...” The Swedish Princess Royal quipped, sternly scolding Leo, “Are we boring you?” Leo began to chuckle as he took another drink, “Quite frankly...” he folded his arms across his chest, “... yes... because not one of you...” he pointed to the screen, “... have the balls to willingly put anything on the table. This is bullshit... now if you’ll excuse me...” Leo slyly smirked, “I’ve more important things to do...” before hanging up.

As Leo sat in the dark conference room, the only light visible was from the screen and laptop in front of him. It was 11pm in Laurentia and 5pm in New York and opening up FaceTime, Leo scrolled through his phone book and clicked on Isabella’s name waiting patiently as it rang. Isabella’s dark brow furrowed as her telenovela was interrupted, wondering if she would ignore the call, Leo would hang up but she was intrigued as she knew his meeting shouldn’t have finished yet. As she answered, her bright white smile adorned her heart shaped face, “¡Hola!” Isabella giggled as the bubbles surrounded her, veiling her body, “You’re finished early?” Leo surveyed his wife as she lay in her bath, steam billowing as Isabella’s long dark locks cascaded over one of her shoulders. “Hey... you know me...” he began to laugh, “straight to the point!”

He bit down on his bottom lip as he felt his length beginning to strain against his jeans, Leo reached down to rearrange himself, “Speaking of which kitten...” Leo slowly began to grin, as Isabella took a drink of her red wine - his sea green eyes had a mischievous twinkle to them, “You look devine right now...” Isabella’s sultry dark chocolate and honey eyes narrowed as her tongue traced her teeth, “Oh really?” Sitting up, Isabella reached over the bath caddy giving Leo an amazing view of her cleavage before lying back, “Heh... well it’s just me and this little guy...” pursing her lips pretending to give the toy a kiss

An involuntary groan escaped Leo’s throat as he saw her perfect, round breasts in front of him before he laughed as he watched her sit back, “Lucky duck!” All Leo could think about was everything that was hidden under the suds and the slight glimpses he would get as Isabella moved. She twirled her hair around her fingers lazily as she started to question him about the meeting but Leo wasn’t interested in that, “Bella...” he groaned as his hand rested on his crotch, “How can you ask me that when your rack is being projected onto the conference room screen and all I want to do is put my head between them and...” Leo watched as Isabella blushed, stopping himself before he went any further.

Isabella bit down on her ruby red bottom lip, she could feel her core quivering as she listened to her husband. Both of their schedules lately were crazy and neither of them got to spend any time together. Isabella’s chest heaved at the sheer thought of Leo touching her breasts, her voice was silky and sexy as she purred, “Don’t...stop...” Leo began to smirk as he carefully watched her tracing her hands across her torso, her nipples hardening in reaction to his words. “Listen to me kitten...” Leo’s tone was soft but authoritarian, “Run your hands across your chest and pinch your nipples for me...” As Isabella did as she was told and closed her eyes, Leo licked his lips excitedly as he watched every movement. Unbuttoning his jeans, Leo exposed his hard, pulsating cock - Isabella smiled as she watched it spring free, glistening with a little pre cum at the tip.

As Leo gripped his cock, he groaned commanding Isabella to push the bath caddy a little further down so he could see more, “Trace your fingers slowly beautiful, down towards your pussy... that’s it...” Leo couldn’t hold back any longer as he watched his wife teasing her clit. The Laurentian Queen’s began to circle her sensitive mound, moaning quietly and Leo began to slowly jack off as he spoke, “I just want to taste how delicious you are right now...” Listening to Isabella moan and watching her face contort drove Leo wild. He loved to watch her expression when they had sex to make sure she was enjoying herself as much as he was. As she teased herself more and more, Leo gripped his cock firmer with each stroke in response.

“Cum for me kitten...” Leo demanded as Isabella pressed down harder, lifting one leg up and propping it on the side of the bath. She began to rub faster, her mouth opening as she moaned louder. Leo’s groaning echoed through the bathroom pushing the petite Queen over the edge as she felt her body beginning to convulse moaning his name as she felt aftershocks against her clit from the moving water. Leo’s teeth were clenched together as he growled loudly feeling his cum shoot from his 8” thick cock. Isabella bit down on her nail smirking as she watched, cooing to him as he slouched back, “I wish I was at home right now... I’m sure I could help you clean up that mess....” Between each pant, Leo chuckled, “You’re a naughty girl...”

Isabella flattened her tongue as she licked the side of her index finger slowly enticing and playing with Leo just a little more “... If only you would have come with me...” Isabella purred, “... You’d be feeling your cock pushing into my throat right now...” Leo felt his breath hitch as Isabella spoke dirty - her accent getting stronger as she rolled her tongue; eyes narrowing with a lustful desire, “Mi amor... Quiero que me cojas...” Leo knew he heard words but all he could think of was how her mouth moved and how good it felt when it was wrapped around the tip of his length. Leo cleared his throat as he growled, “Clear your schedule kitten... I’ll be there by morning...”

[phantasticworks]

Hurry Up and Wait

Hi!! It’s been a long time since I’ve posted anything here but I wrote a short little one shot and figured I’d go ahead and post it now in case I don’t finish one of my longer ones in time for Christmas. So, here you go!

read on ao3

Words: 5.8k

Description: They met at a bar and went home together for a hookup. That's not exactly how the night ends, though.

Warnings: Swearing, mild illusions to an injury but no graphic descriptions, pre-smut scene, lots of fluff

The boy on the bed has brown hair, falling in perspiration-damp waves across his forehead. He’s not asleep, nowhere near it, actually, if the thrashing and whimpering is any indication of his current state of consciousness. He’s trailing one hand across his chest teasingly, dragging the tips of his fingers over a nipple as he brings his honey colored eyes to meet Phil’s blue ones. There’s a smirk tugging at those pretty pink lips, and Phil wants nothing more than to kiss it off.

“Are you gonna touch me or are you just gonna sit there and stare?” The brunette asks finally, a challenge in his tone.

Phil hums contemplatively. “Depends. Are you going to be a good boy?” He tries the words out with all the seriousness he can muster, but the words are unfamiliar and trip off his tongue in the clumsiest way.

The boy, Dan, scrunches his nose up distastefully. “Nope, that’s not doing it for me.”

Phil’s sigh of relief is audible, and he offers Dan an awkward sort of thankful smile. “Good, because I don’t know if I could’ve kept that up anyway.”

Dan laughs, loud in the otherwise silent room. A dimple appears close to his mouth then, and Phil can’t help but smile at the very thing that caught his attention about this boy several hours ago in a bar. Because he really is, still a boy. Barely 20, he’d said when Phil had asked, the question whispered into his ear in a corner away from their respective friends who’d dragged them out for a night of drinking. Phil had been surprised, sure that the boy was older, and it had almost convinced him to end the night alone.

Almost.

“Phil,” Dan whispers now, dragging the older man’s attention back to him. “I’m hard.”

And fuck if those words don’t throw Phil back into the action of things. “C’mere,” he murmurs, laying down on his back and pulling Dan to lay on top of him. “How do you want to do this?” He whispers, mouthing along Dan’s jaw.

“Hmm,” Dan hums, arching into the touches. “Want you to fuck me,” he mumbles. “Don’t care how. I’ll do whatever. I’m pretty flexible.”

Phil can’t help but giggle at that. “It’s your young bones, wait till you get my age,” Phil teases, seemingly unable to get the reminder of Dan’s young age out of his mind.

Something about this must strike Dan as funny, as he cackles before settling back down, his eyes full of mirth. “Right. I forgot you were an old man,” he smiles.

Frowning, slightly offended, Phil leans away to stare up at him. “‘M only 28,” he protests quietly.

Dan smiles. “I was joking, Phil.”

Phil’s face flushes. “Oh. Right.”

He feels silly now, but he tries to shake the feeling off before Dan notices. Instead, he brings their lips together once more, reacquainting himself with the feel of Dan’s lips on his own. It’s a little awkward at first, the way it is with a new sexual partner, but they fall into a steady pace of give and take soon enough, and Phil relearns Dan’s penchant for using his teeth to tug at Phil’s lower lip. He’s mumbling something, something repetitive, but it takes a minute for Phil to realize what he’s saying. When he does, his whole body flushes.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” Dan breathes out, the words falling off his lips like honey.

“Fuck. Okay. Yeah. Hang on.” Phil gently pushes Dan away to lean over and yank the drawer of his nightstand open to search for lube. His fingers have just fumbled against the bottle when a loud, piercing noise interrupts the silence of the room.

Phil nearly falls off the bed at the noise, but manages to catch himself on the edge of the night stand. He hauls himself into a sitting position, patting the sheets in search of the source of the noise, which he’s starting to recognize as his phone.

Dan’s already beat him to it, his eyes narrowed as he stares down at the glowing, screaming device he’s just scooped off the floor on his side of the bed. “Who’s Martyn?”

With a groan, Phil throws his hand across the bed for the phone. “Dead. He’s dead, for calling me in the middle of-“ he swipes the answer button before it stops ringing, bringing it to his ear in the middle of his sentence, cutting himself off with a sharp, “I swear to god, Martyn, this better be good, or-“

“It’s me, Phil,” comes a woman’s voice, soft with a Swedish accent but undeniably twisted in anxiety.

“Corn? What’s wrong?” He’s already standing from the bed in search of his clothes, barely catching the confused look on Dan’s face as he does.

“Er, well, Martyn’s in A&E. He’s fine, we think, just a broken bone, but-“

“What?” He squeaks, fear for his idiot brother coursing through his veins. He finds his pants, tugging them up his legs with some difficultly before grabbing a pair of sweatpants off the floor and tugging those on as well.

“I’m sorry for calling so late, I just-“

“It’s fine, Cornelia. Is he at the one closest to your flat?”

“Yes,” she sounds guilty.

“Right, I’ll be there in,” he checks his phone for the time. He cringes when he sees that it’s just past two in the morning. “Half an hour, give or take.”

“Okay. I really am sorry, Phil,” she repeats.

He shrugs it off. “No problem, Corn. Not your fault he’s an idiot. See you soon.”

As soon as he’s hung up the phone, Dan’s voice cuts through his already jumbled thoughts. “You’re leaving,” he says. It’s not a question.

Phil cringes. “I am so, so sorry. It’s my brother, he’s hurt and they’re at A&E, but I don’t know what happened and-“

“Phil,” Dan says gently. When Phil meets his gaze, Dan smiles in understanding. “It happens. It’s fine.”

“I know, but...” he gestures around, flustered. “We were busy.”

Dan smirks. “We were. But we can do this some other night.” He pauses then, looking a little embarrassed as he looks up at Phil. “Erm, I mean, if you want, we can.”

Phil knows he needs to go, probably order Dan a cab to his own place and then order himself one to the hospital, but instead he pauses, takes a moment to lean down and cup Dan’s soft cheeks. He kisses him firmly, swiping his tongue against Dan’s full bottom lip before leaning away. “Of course. I definitely want to do this again.”

Dan smiles, a little bashfully. “Good.” He looks pleased. “Er, can you hand me my jumper?” He requests softly, pointing over Phil’s shoulder to where he’d left his jumper after stripping it off earlier.

“Yeah, course. Here.” He watches as Dan tugs it on before realizing how creepy that probably is. He turns to find his own shirt, his thoughts pulled in about a million different directions. He finally finds a shirt and tugs it over his head, on the prowl for some socks immediately after.

“Phil?” Dan’s voice, timid and a little unsure, comes from the bed.

“Hm?” Phil replies, only half listening as he searches for his stupid socks.

“Er... you can say no, of course, but... can I go with you?”

“What?” Phil turns around at that, socks completely forgotten as he turns to look at the boy on his bed.

Dan is scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to avoid eye contact as he repeats himself. “Can I go with you? To A&E?”

Phil stares at him for a moment, trying to process the request in the context of this being a one night stand and the purpose of the hospital visit being to see his brother and- “Why?” He asks blankly.

Dan flinches, just a little. He looks down at the comforter, picking at the fabric as he shrugs. “I dunno. Don’t wanna go home.”

“Yeah, but... the hospital? With someone you barely know?” Phil was rightly confused.

Dan rolls his eyes, looking up at him through his lashes. “I had your dick in my mouth earlier, I think we know each other well enough.”

Phil’s face flushes, not for the first and probably not for the last time tonight, and he shrugs as he turns away, spotting a colorful sock under the edge of his bed. “Sure, you can come with me. Might be there a while, though.”

Dan shrugs, making a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat before turning to find his own socks. “I don’t mind. You’ll be there to entertain me,” he says with a cheeky grin.

Phil snorts but tugs his socks and shoes on before standing by the door, waiting for Dan to finish dressing. He orders a car while he waits, and when Dan is standing next to the bed, shifting awkwardly, Phil nods to the door. “C’mon, Uber should be here in a few minutes.”

~~~

The drive to A&E isn’t nearly as long as Phil thought it would be, with Dan sat chattering to him the whole time. Phil thought that after a few minutes it would get annoying, but Dan draws him in with his speculation on aliens and other forms of life, and Phil finds that Dan’s mind works in ways similar to his own. It’s almost eerie how well they can converse about it, especially since they literally only met earlier that night, but Phil finds the conversation rather pleasant, and he’s almost sad to see the glowing lights of the A&E entrance come into view.

He pays the driver and holds the door for Dan, barely paying attention to him as he stares at the doors. He knows it’s very unlikely that something serious has happened to his brother but he’s going into a mild panic wondering what exactly happened and how serious it is.

He’s managed to work himself into such an isolated panic that it takes Dan bringing his face less than an inch in front of his own for him to snap out of it. “What?” He stammers, staring at Dan’s moving lips.

“I asked if you wanted me to ask for your brother when we went inside. You got all pale and your breathing went funny.” Dan looks concerned, more concerned than a stranger has any right to look. For some reason, though, Phil doesn’t feel all that bothered.

“Er... I can do it. I just... I got nervous. I don’t know what happened, and Martyn’s a real clutz, so what if-“ he’s rambling, his words speeding off the track of his tongue and crashing in the air between them, so it’s no surprise really when Dan shushes him gently.

“Hey, hey. Take a breath, okay? Everything is probably fine, yeah? Surely if it was serious he would have told you.”

“His girlfriend is the one who called,” Phil says, although it’s useless information.

“Well, she would have told you if it was serious, yeah?”

And Phil can’t argue with that. He nods. “Yeah,” he breathes out finally.

“Right. So let’s just go inside and see what’s going on. C’mon,” he says gently, taking Phil’s hand and guiding him inside. They’ve barely made it to the door and he suddenly drops Phil’s hand, staring at him like he’s burnt him.

“What?” Phil asks, confused.

“Are you, like, out to them? I don’t-“

Phil rolls his eyes, taking Dan’s hand again. “I am, but thank you for asking.”

Dan looks visibly relieved. “Okay. Right, let’s go see the brother.”

They’ve barely made it inside the waiting room when Phil’s gaze catches on a head of flaming red hair that could only belong to his brother’s girlfriend. She must spot him around the same time he spots her, and the relief on her face does nothing to soothe his already frayed nerves.

“Thank god,” is the first two words out of her mouth when she reaches them, and she pulls him into a tight hug, seemingly not even noticing Dan yet. That says more about her worried state than it does about Dan, Phil thinks, as the brunette could turn heads no matter what room he enters.

“Is he okay?” Phil asks, lightly pulling out of Cornelia’s grip to look down at her. “He’s not dying or anything, right?”

Cornelia laughs, a light musical sound, but shakes her head. “He’s hardly dying, but he’ll wish he was when I’m through chewing him out.” She sounds exasperated, and Phil’s even more confused now.

“If he’s okay then-“

“Who’s your friend, then?” Cornelia asks, finally spotting Dan, who until now has been shifting awkwardly almost behind Phil, clearly not interested in intruding on the family conversation.

Now that he’s been called out directly, Dan can hardly hide behind him anymore, so he takes a step forward and offers Cornelia his right hand for a handshake. “I’m Dan,” he introduces himself with a smile.

Cornelia smiles back, although maybe a little wearily, and her gaze flickers down to their intertwined hands. “Mhm,” she hums. “Nice to meet you, then, Dan.”

“You too,” he says politely, his southern accent exaggerating the words to the point where he sounds like he’s mocking the queen.

Glancing between them again, and probably just due to some sixth sense, Cornelia definitely realizes something is going on between them. A slow grin twists at her lips, and Phil already wants to melt into the floor. “So how do you two know each other?” Cornelia asks casually.

Phil is ready to defend himself, to accuse her of doing this on purpose because, of course on the one night he decides to have a one night stand, of course this happens and-

And Dan’s already beating him to it. “I’m Phil’s boyfriend,” he announces with a sunny grin, so sure of himself that even Phil has to take a moment to wonder at the honesty of it. Dan glances at him, and obvious noting his surprise, rephrases. “Well, sort of. It’s very new.” He chews on his lip like he’s biting back a smirk, and even without knowing him very well, Phil’s positive that’s exactly what he’s doing.

“Huh,” Cornelia says, staring at Dan in surprise for a long moment. Eventually, her eyes drift back to meet Phil’s. “You did well, babes, he’s cute.”

Phil lets out a breathy laugh at that, his shoulders sagging in relief. He squeezes Dan’s hand once in a silent sort of thanks, and receives a squeeze in return. “Thanks,” he says to Cornelia. “Now, are you going to tell me what happened to my idiot brother?”

Cornelia sighs and nods before leading them over to a vacated corner of the waiting room, so she can tell them the story in relative privacy. Dan sits on the small two-seater sofa, dragging Phil down to sit beside him and resting his hand on Phil’s knee when they’ve settled. Phil can’t help but flush at this small moment of intimacy, especially considering they aren’t actually dating at all. Still, he doesn’t ask Dan to move it.

The story isn’t a very short one, but the long and the short of it is that Cornelia and him were working on remodeling their flat when Martyn decided to be funny and climb up a ladder and sit up at the top, singing “The Circle of Life” at the top of his lungs. Naturally, the ladder was wobbly, and eventually, with all his dramatic motions, it came crashing down, him with it.

Phil has to snort out a laugh once he’s heard the story. It’s so typically Martyn that he has to laugh, although Dan sends him a disapproving look for it. “Figures. He’s such an idiot,” Phil teases, rolling his eyes.

Cornelia sighs, fondly. “He is,” she agrees in the sort of way that implies an unspoken “but he’s my idiot.”

Phil feels a pang of almost jealousy at this relationship his brother and Cornelia share. He hadn’t seriously dated anyone in years, and never shared the kind of deep emotional connection with someone that Martyn and Cornelia have. It makes him feel small, inadequate, under the light of their loving relationship, in the worst kind of way.

His attention, as focused as it was on his own emotional trauma, is brought back to the present day when he hears Cornelia say, “I guess I’ll go back and see how he is. Make sure they’re not stabbing him with needles and such.”

Dan laughs, gesturing to Phil with his thumb. “It sounds like this one wouldn’t care even if they were.”

Cornelia giggles but nods. “Brothers, right?”

Dan heaves a sigh and nods, smiling tiredly. Phil wonders idly if he has a brother, and considering how little they know of each other, he might have a dozen siblings and Phil would be none the wiser.

“Phil?” Dan pats his knee gently to get his attention. “You okay?”

“Mhm. Just... I dunno, tired. Kinda spacey.”

Dan offers him a sympathetic hum. “You’ve had a long day,” he says, his tone understanding.

Phil nods tiredly in agreement. “Yeah.” He sighs, leaning his head back to stare up at the ceiling for a moment. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?” Dan sounds confused.

Lifting his head enough to give him a smile, Phil says, “For not making things weird. Earlier, when I introduced you to Cornelia.”

Dan snorts. “I kinda did the introducing on my own, mate. You were spaced the fuck out.”

Phil’s lips twitch down, and he glances away. “You’re right... I’m sorry about that, if it made you feel awkward.”

Before he can get too self deprecating, Dan drags his gaze back to his own by settling a hand on Phil’s jaw. “It’s fine, Phil. Really. It was fine.”

“Still,” Phil shrugs. “Thank you. For not making it awkward.”

Dan smiles. “No problem. I’d hate for her to know we were strangers who were just hooking up.”

Something about the way he’s phrased it makes Phil sad, but he knows that there’s no lie in Dan’s words. That’s exactly what they were. Two strangers who were about to fuck, until Cornelia had called and put a pause on things. He wonders, idly, if Dan will want to come over again some other night and retry things. He hopes, selfishly, that he does.

“Wanna read some reddit threads with me?” Dan whispers to Phil, holding his phone out so that both of them can see it.

Phil nods, leaning his head to rest against Dan’s shoulder. “This okay?” He asks before he can get too comfortable.

“Mhm. Can you see the screen?”

“Yeah.”

“Mkay,” Dan replies, scrolling through the endless stream of content.

He realizes eventually, due to Phil humming for him to slow down or scroll back up to something he wasn’t finished reading, that Phil is a slow reader. Dan apparently doesn’t have the etiquette to not mention this.

“You read slow,” he says, as simply as if he’s just observing the color of his eyes.

Phil bristles. “Sorry,” he says shortly.

Dan shrugs, and when Phil’s head has rolled off his shoulder, he sends him a disapproving look. “I don’t mind, stupid. Just tell me when go scroll.”

A little embarrassed, Phil nods and lays his head back down again. They settle back into a comfortable silence reading off the phone, every now and again giggling softly at a funny meme, or sharing a soft sigh when there’s something wholesome.

Eventually, Dan breaks the comfortable silence. “Are you worried about your brother?” He asks quietly, not moving his eyes from the phone.

Phil sighs. “A little. He’s an idiot but I love him and I’d hate for something to happen to him.”

Dan nods. “I know what you mean. I have a little brother and...” he trails off before shaking his head gently. “He doesn’t like me very much, but that doesn’t make me worry about him any less.”

The new information about Dan warms Phil’s heart a little and he smiles against his shoulder. “I can’t really picture you being a concerned older brother. You’re so young, and it’s just weird to think of you as being an older sibling.”

For some reason, Dan tenses up beneath him, causing Phil’s head to tip off his shoulder a bit.

After dragging in a deep breath, Dan begins speaking softly. “About that, actually. I’m-“

Whatever Dan was about to say is cut off by the sound of Phil’s name being called across the lobby. He and Dan both look up at once, and Phil spots Cornelia stood at the door with a man in a white coat, gesturing for him to come over.

“I’d better go see what they want. Do you...” Phil trails off, awkwardly gesturing to the area around them

Dan waves him off with one hand. “Go, go. I’ll wait here.” He gives him a reassuring smile before turning his attention back to his phone and allowing Phil to tend to his family affair.

As soon as Phil reaches Cornelia and the man who he assumes is the doctor, Phil hears them talking about a broken bone and stitches. His skin is already crawling with the imagery and he hopes, god he hopes, that they don’t make him look at anything gory.

“Phil, this is Martyn’s doctor, Dr. Evans,” Cornelia introduces them once Phil is standing awkwardly before them.

The doctor, an attractive man probably in his early thirties, smiles and offers Phil his hand. “Pleasure. You must be Martyn’s brother?”

Phil nods, shaking the man’s hand before releasing it quickly, worried that his hands are sweating with nerves. “Right. Obviously the smarter Lester brother, if you couldn’t tell,” he jokes, albeit nervously.

The doctor, thankfully, laughs. “Not that an accident is something to joke about, but in light of what’s happened it’s good that you can see the bright side.”

And that does nothing for Phil’s anxiety at all, his heart beginning to pound as he panics over what might’ve happened, what damages his brother has managed to procure. “Oh god, is he going to be okay? He’s not paralyzed or anything, is he?”

Dr. Evans gives him a strange look, but to his credit, doesn’t call Phil out for his rather strange train of thought. “No, no, he’ll be fine. He’s managed to break a bone in his leg and fracture his wrist in three places, but he’ll be fine. He’s got some bruised ribs and probably a bruised ego, but I promise he’ll be able to walk out of here fresh as a daisy.”

Phil can’t help the sigh of relief at the news. “Okay. Thank god,” he sends Cornelia a look, and she seems to be just as relieved as him, likely soothed by the news that her idiot boyfriend, while broken, would be returning home all in one piece. “When can he go home?” Phil asks now that the thought has entered his head.

“We want to keep him for tonight because it’s so late and his pain levels need to be monitored with the right side of his body injured the way it is, but he should be free to go tomorrow.” The doctor says, as he checks over the chart on his clipboard. The last part is mostly directed to Cornelia, likely understanding that she’s the one who’ll be taking him home.

“Great,” Cornelia replies.

“Can I see him?” Phil asks, mainly out of politeness. He’s exhausted and knowing his brother isn’t dead is good enough for him for tonight. He hates himself, just a little, for being so selfish, but to his own defense, he’d been expecting a very different outcome for the night.

“He’s conked out on pain medication right now, actually, and he’ll be moved up to a room for the night shortly. Unfortunately, visiting hours are over, but you could come back in the morning when visiting begins,” the doctor suggests politely, tucking his hands and clipboard behind his back.

And honestly that sounds perfect to Phil. “I’ll just come back tomorrow if he’s not already been discharged,” he says, glancing to Cornelia for reassurance that she won’t mind.

She nods, waving him off. “Go ahead and go home. Your boyfriend looks like he’s about to fall asleep over there, definitely need to get him home,” she smirks as she nods behind him.

Having momentarily forgotten his existence, Phil is surprised to glance back and see Dan sat there, head in his hand, slumped over as if on the verge of sleep. It’s undeniably adorable, and Phil smiles to himself before turning around.

He shrugs at Cornelia as if he just can’t help it. “He’s had a long day, so you’re probably right.” Realizing that the doctor is still very much there, Phil turns to him and offers his hand for another handshake. “Thanks so much for helping my idiot brother. Really appreciate it.”

The man grins, returning the shake. Then, surprising Phil, he juts his chin out towards where Dan is sat in the waiting room. “If things don’t work out between you and the boyfriend, you know where to find me.” He punctuates this with a wink that makes Phil flush, and then with a more professional goodbye to Cornelia, he’s off in a flurry of white coat and businesslike strides.

“My god, he was rather forward,” Cornelia observes, sounding a mix of surprised and awed.

Phil shakes his head before shrugging. “I guess so,” he squeaks.

Cornelia laughs, bringing a hand up to squeeze his shoulder. “I can’t imagine how awkward that was, love,“ she says, teasingly.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Can I go home now or did you want me to stay?” He grumbles.

The redhead waves her hand in dismissal. “No, don’t bother. He’ll be asleep for hours and there’s really no point in you being here since he’s not dying or anything.” She sounds relieved but exhausted, and Phil knows this night has taken a toll on her.

Wrapping her up in a hug, he mumbles, “I appreciate you calling me to tell me what happened. Even if I was in the middle of something.” The accidental admission slips out without his consent, but once it’s out there it’s out there, and he can only sigh as she giggles.

“Oh I am so getting the gossip about you and your new boyfriend later. But I guess for tonight I’ll let you get back home and finish whatever you were in the middle of,” her eyes dance with mischief once she’s pulled away from his hug.

Phil rolls his eyes at this. “Whatever. I’ll come by and see Martyn tomorrow, yeah?”

Cornelia nods. “Sure. Now get home safely, please. Love you.”

“Love you too,” Phil says with a smile. “Tell my idiot brother I send my condolences.

She laughs as he parts, and the sound follows him over to the chair where Dan is very obviously taking a nap.

“Dan,” Phil mumbles, sitting on the edge of the chair and shaking Dan’s shoulder gently. “Dan, baby, c’mon, wake up.”

It takes a few minutes, but eventually Dan’s eyes blink open and he takes in his surroundings, clearly disoriented. “Hm?”

“C’mon, it’s time to go,” Phil says gently. He allows Dan a moment to gather himself before they stand and make their way to the door, Phil already dialing for an Uber.

“How’s your brother?” Dan says on a yawn as they step outside.

Phil smiles at the way his eyes squeeze shut around the yawn, then blink rapidly to clear them. It’s stupid how endearing he finds it. “He’s fine. Broken leg, couple of fractures. He’ll live.”

Dan nods. “My brother is a marathon biker. Fucks up his ankle all the time.”

Cringing a little at the imagery, Phil nods. “I’d hate that.”

“No shit,” Dan snorts. He closes his eyes, leaning heavily against Phil, and sighs. “Am I still allowed to say I want to go back to yours when I’m not under the influence of alcohol anymore?”

Phil smiles at the soft request. “Yeah,” he murmurs.

Dan hums. “So can I?”

“Of course,” Phil replies easily. “Do you want to...” he trails off as the Uber pulls up in front of them.

Dan seems to understand what he means even without words. “Mm, we’ll see. I’m awfully tired.”

Phil laughs as he climbs in the backseat beside him. “God, me too.”

“Maybe a nap first,” Dan mumbles. “Then sex.”

A surprised laugh slips from Phil’s mouth at that bold statement, and his eyes flicker to the driver even though he knows there’s a very low chance that he had heard. Still, he can’t help but worry.

Eventually they make it back to his flat and he helps Dan out of the car, since he is very obviously too tired to be much of a use on his own. Phil snorts at how much Dan stumbles up the steps, especially considering the fact that he wasn’t even inebriated this time. He mentions this to Dan, who lets out an unamused, “fuck off.”

After letting them into his apartment, Phil holds onto Dan’s elbow, keeping them both steady as they tug off their shoes and coats, throwing them to the ground beside the door. Phil sighs in relief when he’s left in his sweatpants and tshirt, and he’s just turned to ask Dan if he’d like some tea when Dan’s looping his arms over Phil’s shoulders and pulling him into a kiss. Their lips work together in a slow, sleepy pace, as Dan is clearly still out of it.

After a moment of this, Phil gently pulls away. “It’s pretty late, baby,” he murmurs.

“And?” Dan replies.

Phil hums, kissing him again. “Time for sleep?”

Dan shakes his head, dragging Phil in for another kiss despite the fact that his lips seem to be working in slow motion like the rest of his exhausted body. “No, let me...” he mumbles. “Let me... blow you.”

And of course that’s exciting, but Phil is just so tired, and Dan is barely able to hold his eyes open. Phil can’t even stand the thought of standing long enough for a blowjob, and the thought of doing it in bed makes him somehow sleepier.

“In the morning,” Phil mumbles. “We can just do it in the morning.”

Dan sighs against Phil’s collarbone. “Can I still stay the night?”

Phil’s answer comes in a confused question. “Yeah?”

“With you? In your bed?” Dan elaborates.

Phil pulls away. “Yes, Dan, I didn’t bring you home with me to make you sleep on the sofa,” he scoffs.

Dan’s gaze falls to the floor. “You brought me here to fuck, so I wasn’t sure...”

“Dan,” Phil sighs. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed, to sleep. I’m tired and you’re tired and we need to get some rest.”

“But...” Dan trails off. “You’re sure you don’t want me to... do anything?”

Phil rolls his eyes. “Honestly, I’m not sure if I could stay awake long enough to finish. And that’s saying something about how tired I am, because I love sex.”

Dan smiles slowly. “Can we cuddle?”

“Of course we can cuddle. I love a good cuddle,” Phil says, running a hand over Dan’s hair and leaning in to kiss his forehead. “C’mon, let’s go.”

The brunette smiles and follows Phil to his room, clearly just as eager to sleep as he had been earlier to fuck. Only when Phil starts pulling his shirt off does the look falter.

“What?” Phil asks, feeling self conscious all of a sudden.

“Nothing, just...” Dan trails off. “Can I sleep in my pants?” He asks, sounding awkward and unsure.

“Yeah, whatever. If you want pajamas I have some you can borrow,” he shrugs, crawling into bed with nothing but his pajama bottoms on.

“I like to sleep naked but I can wear pants since we’re not...”

Phil grins from where he’s sat on the bed, looking up at Dan. “You can be naked if you want, babe, I don’t mind.”

Dan flushes. “Well, if we’re not, like, gonna...”

Phil nods, hiding his smile as he holds the duvet up for Dan to crawl underneath. “Right.”

As soon as Dan is laying down, Phil covers him up, turning on his side to wrap an arm around his waist. “Are you comfy?” He asks Dan quietly.

Dan hums out what sounds like an agreement. The room is quiet for several moments. “Phil?” He whispers.

“Mhm?”

“I lied to you.”

Phil blinks. “About what?”

“I’m not twenty.”

Phil pulls away automatically. “Please tell me you’re of legal age,” he demands, heart beginning to race.

Dan turns over, a startled look in his face. “God, Phil, yeah I’m legal. Fuck. I’m twenty-four. Not twenty.”

This doesn’t sound right either, and Phil blinks again. “What?”

The brunette closes his eyes, cutting off those little windows to his soul, to his truth. “I tell people I’m younger because men typically find that more attractive,” he whispers, all in a rush.

Phil stares at him. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

If Dan’s offended, he hides it well with a scoff. “Worked on you, mate,” he mutters.

“That’s not...” Phil trails off, shaking his head. “I liked you because you were interesting, and cool, and pretty.”

The admission hangs in the air between them for a long minute. Then, Dan presses closer, hiding his face in Phil’s shoulder. “You think I’m pretty?”

Phil smiles, pressing a kiss to the brunette waves. It’s so, so domestic, and for someone he’s only known less than 24 hours, it feels more right than anything he’s ever felt. “Gorgeous, love.”

“Are you just saying this because we haven’t fucked yet and you wanna stay on my good side so I’ll put out?” Dan asks bluntly, his voice colored with hurt.

“What? No,” Phil pulls away enough to look him in the eyes. “Dan, I’ve never even done the one night stand thing before. I’d have no idea how to sweet talk you into putting out if I tried.”

Those brown eyes, sweet and full of disbelief, blink up at him in the darkness. “Promise?” He whispers.

Phil leans in, kisses him on the tip of his nose. “Promise,” he assures him. “Now, how about that nap?”

Dan nods, and in the darkness Phil sees him tilt his head back and pucker his lips. “Kiss?” He hums.

“Needy, needy thing,” Phil teases before ducking his head and pressing his lips to Dan’s. “Goodnight, love.”

“Night, baby,” Dan replies sweetly.

And even though Phil hasn’t spent a night with someone else in his arms in years, he feels himself settle into the feeling slowly and then all at once, in a way that feels almost like he’s always been meant to do this. That Dan really just belongs in his bed, tucked in his arms. And maybe he does, and maybe Phil belongs in Dan’s.

Or maybe Phil’s just a sap.

But that’s his own problem. And tonight, in this moment, he embraces that.

[dlrconlicense]

A Strange Favor (or Favour if you’d like)

Not beta’d just another little brain fart I had looking at a pic of Strange and Spidey, set in a timeline in this multiverse as my Strange Desserts ficlet. It’s just utter Strangeolly crack (Also pays a little homage to my high school which was very similar to Peter’s)

New York City, somewhere in the multiverse.

“Ah, young master Parker. To what do we owe your presence?” Wong opens the door to 177A Bleecker Street to see the young man fidgeting in front of the Sanctum.

“Oh hey Mr. Wong, listen is Dr. Strange in right now? I really need to ask him a favor?” Wong looked at the teen and he could see Peter Parker was anxious, whatever it is must be of utmost importance.

Wong lead the youngster into the Sanctum “Master Strange will be back shortly, he has to attend to some business in London. Can I get you anything? Tea?”

“Oh no, it’s ok. I’ll just wait here.” Whenever Peter visit the Sanctum, he was always both in awe and a tad creeped out. Last time the Cloak snuck up on him and he ended up knocking over one of the relics in the library upstairs. Needless to say, Strange and Wong were not amused. Peter rocked back and forth on his sneakers and saw Wong still stood by watching him. “Come on Mr. Wong, I’m not going to touch anything, I swear!”

“It’s not you I’m worried about. That Cloak has a mind of its own and for some reason, it likes to have fun with you Master Parker.”

A portal opens at the top of the stairs and through it comes Stephen Strange, dressed not in his usual robes but in a sweater and jeans. He turns around and gives a brunette woman on the other side of the portal a kiss “I’ll see you next time?” Before she could answer, they hear rapid footsteps coming up the stairs.

“Dr. Strange, I need a HUUUUGE favor…oh, hi Dr. Hooper!”

The brunette smiles at Peter and crosses the portal to give him a hug “Hey Peter! How have you been?”

“What is it, kid?” Stephen was just a tad peeved that his goodbye kiss to Molly was rudely interrupted. “You know I can’t use the stone to turn back time so you can upload an assignment that you somehow forgot that was due because you were fighting some thug down by the bodega at the same time as the deadline…”

“Actually Doc, it’s not that. Well technically, I don’t have to ask you now that Dr. Hooper is here.”

Stephen cocks his eyebrow up inquisitively at the kid “What do you need from Molly?”

“A body.”

“A body?” Stephen looks over to his girlfriend, why does everyone seem to think that she can provide bodies like she runs “Corpse-r-Us”? Nobody knew about her involvement with Holmes’ little magic trick a few years back save for their little circle.

“See I am taking Intro to Forensic Science at school as an elective because NOTHING else was available and we were supposed to be visiting the morgue to observe an autopsy but for some reason they canceled on us and I don’t know why I mentioned that I knew a pathologist and my teacher Mr. Citron is an absolute forensic nut and when he found out that I knew Dr. Hooper from St. Bart’s, and believe me he is a big fan of yours Dr. Hooper, read like all your papers. Anyways, he wanted me to ask her if she can video an autopsy for the class…”

Stephen really wishes he can open a portal and send this kid back to Long Island City or Sunnyside or wherever in Queens he lived. But his Molly would not approve, for she was rather fond of this teen. He was smart and an overall decent kid, Strange would agree, as he would regularly seek the sorcerer out when he needed tutoring in biology or how to deal with mystical beings that occasionally popped up around his neighborhood. Currently however, he was getting a splitting headache from his incessant chatter. Though what is up with this kid and his run-on sentences? Oh, the demise of the school system. But he got to hand it to the kid and his lung capacity for being able to articulate so much in a short span of time.

“Well I would have to check with Mike first, but I don’t see why not. We are a teaching hospital, be glad to motivate the next generation of mad scientists. Just hope your lunchtime isn’t scheduled after the post-mortem video, otherwise I don’t think you can look at pizza or macaroni cheese for a while.”

“Well see here’s the thing…” Peter rocked back and forth on his heels, not looking at the couple, Stephen squinted his eyes as though reading his mind “Tell me you did not promise a live one?”

“Not really possible though.” Peter looked up at Molly in disappointment, she turned to Stephen with a small impish smile “Can’t exactly do it on a live one, can I?”

The raven-haired sorcerer smirked at this comment. His Molly did have a most unique sense of humor “You know what I mean.”

“I mean think about it guys. Wouldn’t this be a fine opportunity for your institution for outreach and collaboration with an American academic institution? I mean, we need a bit more professional anecdotes, the most exposure we get on the morgue are CSI reruns and iZombie.”

Stephen knitted his eyes and stared at the boy, well played Peter, he knows how much Molly loves to rant about how unrealistic those shows are.

“Live-streaming would be a first, though you guys would have to set up the whole feed…”

“See here is where you come in, Dr. Strange. How about we bring Dr. Hooper and the body into my school using your Sling Ring?”

Stephen and Molly both raised their eyebrows in unison, was he serious now?

“Umm, that’s a no, kid.”

“But Dr. Strange, you for one know how fascinating the human body is and plus my classmates would think that you are mad cool as a scientist and a sorcerer, two practices that run completely opposite to each other, I mean you can actually also do a seminar on how does one balance science and the metaphysical…”

Stephen twirls his hand to open a portal behind Peter to the alley next to his apartment building. “Bye, Parker.”

Just as Stephen was send Peter into the portal, a loud banging comes from Molly’s flat inside the other portal.

“Molly!!! I need you to head into Bart’s and examine the corpse from Dimmock’s case! I believe I have found the correlation between the victim’s Swedish Fish addiction and…oh Strange, you’re here.”

Molly and Stephen sighed and turned to find Sherlock Holmes had picked the lock to her flat. Peter looks at the tall curly haired man in awe “Holy crap! You’re Sherlock Holmes. Oh man, Mr. Citron is going to be so jealous! Mr. Holmes, I’m Peter, Dr. Hooper’s friend…”

Sherlock gazed at the boy with a frown, then turned to Molly with raised eyebrows as if asking who is this reprobate?

“Oh! Maybe you and Dr. Hooper can conduct a seminar on solving crimes through forensics and deduction together”

“Ok kid, bye bye!” And with a flick of his hand, Stephen sent Peter through the portal and closed it. He turned to Molly and drew his fingers in the circle in the direction of Sherlock “You need me to, you know…?”

Molly shook her head, wound her hands to his neck and pulled him down for a slow and sweet kiss “I’m kind of curious what Swedish Fish have to do with this case. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Your place or mine?”

Sherlock was already out of the door and impatiently called out “Strange, you’ll end up slinging or whatever it is that you do into her bed later anyways. Come along, Molly! Time is of the essence.”

Molly took his hand and caressed over the Sling Ring “How about Singapore? I’m in the mood for some chili crab and away from them. I’m pretty sure Sherlock has been banned for his little investigation involving their otter population. Even Mycroft won’t be able to get him into the country.”

[another-chorus-girl]

“Erik House” Chapter 5

Karimloo stepped inside the house just as dawn was peaking over the horizon. 

Rarely did he enjoy leaving his new home-as the place was growing on him as weeks passed-but he did need to stay in peak physical condition. At least the gymnasium was open morning, noon, and night. If Karimloo went during the silent dark hours, less people would be around to gawk. It's not everyday people see a man lifting whilst wearing a slicked down wig and mask. 

Although Karimloo was mildly surprised to see a boy there also wearing a rather strange mask. The boy glanced his way a few times in between reps but other than this kept his baseball cap brim down over his eyes and continued his exercises

Karimloo paid the boy little mind and let him be.

He was just heading up the stairs when he heard an ungodly shriek.

"For the love of treble clef! Not again!" Karimloo heard from upstairs.

"Oh what now?!"

"Some of us are trying to sleep after hours of composing!"

The shriek had come from the parlour, and as Karimloo creeped closer he heard sniffling.

"My little darling....no...." He hard a mumbled whimpering.

Several dishevelled Meriks came bounding down the stairs.

"I swear if that's Harley screaming again, not even his hand at the level of his eyes will save him." Warlow grumbled.

Gerik yawned stumbling down the stairs.

"What's all this commotion about?" He mumbled, the Meriks too sleep deprived to show discontent at his presence.

In the parlour was a slumped over Jerik, cradling a large furry motionless lump to his chest.

"No no no" The estranged long haired man weeped.

"Seriously?" Panaro griped, "It's a rat!"

Jerik shot him an offended glare, "Don't say such a thing about her!"

Kerik stumbled through the crowd.

"What's all this noise?" He asked, running his hand through his now messy hair.

"You!" Jerik pointed an accusing finger, "Your little beast killed my Sofia!"

Kerik angrily stomped over, "How dare you speak that way of my little lady! Ayesha has certainly more class than your vermin minions! If anything she did that one a kindness!"

As if on cue a mew was heard. The Siamese feline in question strutted through the parlour.

"Shoo! Shoo!" Jerik shouted as Ayesha's ear went flat against her skull, giving him a venomous hiss.

"You're scaring her!" Kerik exclaimed, running over to scoop Ayesha into his arms. Once in her master's embrace, Ayesha's demeanour changed as she purred lovingly against his chest. "Splendid work my girl."

Still cradling the dead rodent Jerik ran out of the parlour and back outside.

"I think a certain someone earned herself a little treat." Kerik cooed, heading for the kitchen to give a well deserved feline a saucer of milk -- "No no please you made a mistake."

"But she looks just like her! I'm certain!"

"No! You're mistaken."

"I say what's going on?" Crawford asked, seeing several huddled around the window.

"We have a guest." Mauer said.

"What? But who would-?" He paused, glancing out the window to a familiar sight.

Rain dripped against the glass but they could easily make out a figure in a blue cloak that was approaching the main door of the house. Lifting the hood revealed long brown curls and fair pale skin. She was accompanied by another fair haired woman, but she had a mass of golden blonde hair.  

"Is it truly!" Crawford gasped, disappearing down the stairwell.

Knocking on the door, it was opened to a startled Kerik.

"I'm sorry mademoiselles can I help you?" He asked, startled to see the women at the door.

Confused Lerik gave Winslow a bewildered look hearing the commotion from the foyer. Scribbling something down he showed Winslow the parchment.

'Callers?' It read.

"Yes, um I'm looking for the master of the house monsieur." The blonde said. somewhat perplexed by the man at the door. He had a pair of familiar eyes, but she knew this could not be him.

"I see, well you must know he doesn't like to be disturbed. We try to abide by that rule." Kerik explained a warning glance at the basement door.

"I appreciate your concern, but we've met before you see and I-"

But Kerik felt the door yanked open as Gerik poked his head out.

"Christine?!" He asked the other girl, strolling to her side. "It's been too long my dear!"

The brunette took a step back.

"I apologise monsieur, you have me mistaken for-"

"Oh my! What happened to your voice?" He asked concerned, taking her hand. 

"I mean it's lovely but you sound so different. Oh but that's-"

"Remove your hand right now monsieur," Gerik froze hearing Crawford's icy tone. Backing away, the older man stepped passed Gerik.

The dark demeanour immediately changed as he laid his mismatch eyes on the brunette.

Crawford smiled, "I knew it was you darling!" Taking the brunette in his arms the two embraced lovingly as she smiled up at him.

"It's so splendid to see you," Her pale blue eyes practically glimmered.

"And I you my dear, but please do come in. You'll catch your death a cold out here"

Leading her in the house, Kerik and Gerik turned to the blonde.

"I'm sorry, it is cold outside. Please." Kerik widened the door open. Neither Sarah or her companion were anywhere to be seen. Christine was offered a seat in the parlour by the masked man.

"I'll go get him for you" He replied, hesitantly opening the basement door. Then he paused, turning to Gerik. "Say why don't you do it?"

Gerik scowled, "Do I look that naive?"

"Well you actually thought you were a good sword fighter"

"Is this suppose to butter me up?"

Kerik sighed, "You're right, I apologise."

Gerik smirked, "Thank you."

But this was a short lived apology as before Gerik could react, Kerik seized his cravat and dragged him to the doorway before unceremoniously letting him tumble into the basement.

"Thanks alot! You're a pal!" Kerik called, before closing the basement door. His yellow eyes turned to Christine's startled expression. "Oh don't mind him he'll be fine...perhaps."

She had been told of this place but even still she was certainly caught off guard. One of the men seated wore a giant helmet, and a tight black suit, the other dressed in many layers, wearing a mask concealing all but his eyes which stared at her intently.

He jotted down something, handing her a paper.

'Have we met?' Lerik wrote.

The blonde shook her head, "I'm afraid not monsieur."

Suddenly the door slammed open and Gerik sprinted up the stairs.

"I swear, it's true!" He stammered

"You better be certain" A disgruntled older voice sighed, sounding rather annoyed.

Christine stood at the sound. So familiar, could it truly be?

"And maybe next time you decide to disturb me-not there will be a next time-perhaps you could go about less noise? Honestly I-"

Erik paused, golden eyes wide.

The blonde smiled, clutching a piece of hemming on her dress nervously. "Hello Erik"

"C-Christine?" He stammered. If his face were visible beneath the black mask his mouth would be agape like a fish. "I...Well I mean. It's so, you're really here?"

"Of course!" She said, clasping her hands together. "You sent me a message remember?"

"Yes of course. But frankly I never imagined you would receive it so quickly. Or that you would come."

"I'll always come back Erik. Always to you," She smiled.

"I just...Oh it's just-" Erik didn't finish feeling the blonde wrap her arms around his waist.

"I missed you too maestro." --

Panaro glanced quizzically as he stepped out of his room. Several Meriks were peeking around the corner leading to the parlour where music was ominous from the pipe organ on their floor.

"What are you-?" He asked but several whipped around, shooting him a look.

"SHHHH!"

Panaro scowled at being shushed. Trying to get a glance in the parlour, he noticed why so many were staring, seeing the chestnut haired beauty beside Crawford on the seat in front of the instrument.

"She isn't the only one that showed up," Warlow whispered. "A blonde showed up as well. The Swedish fellow down the hall was disappointed."

"I don't understand?" Panaro mumbled, watching Sarah place her arm over Crawford's as he continued to play for her.

"From what I gather her precious boy had an unfortunate circumstance. She was left alone when he passed and her teacher was the shoulder she cried on. And it would seem she's no longer crying on it anymore." The Jones explained.  

All of the sudden Panaro could make out some sort of sound from above. Not a very flattering sound.

"What is THAT?" Panaro said through gritted teeth.

"It seems our tone deaf tenor's lady called on the house shortly after those two arrived." Carpenter chirped in.

"Miss Emmy is just as musically inclined as her companion upstairs," Mauer sighed, "That's why they've taken to playing in the parlor I suspect."

Panaro was somewhat envious of the older man. Not wishing to gawk in on the two, Panaro was heading down to his chambers when he stopped at Karimloo's ajar door.

"Not joining the viewing area?" Panaro joked.

"No. I'm not too shaken to see a lady in the house as everyone else seems to be."

He paused, "So you're saying you don't miss her?"

Karimloo knew someone was going to bring up Sierra.

"I didn't say that. It's just that, I understand her choice. And she and I we....there is lingering friendship. But I know now she won't ever be my companion."

Panaro nodded sadly. Letting Trista go was difficult for him as well. He felt a familiar feeling as Karimloo described it.

He turned to leave the man in peace.

"You don't have to go you know," His voice called, Panaro's shoulders flinched.

He cocked his head back to face the slightly taller man. "Really?"

A smile graced Karimloo's lips as he offered him a chair. "Please. I could use another set of ears to critique my work."

Panaro could not resist music's call, especially this man's music.

-Many of the Meriks will share some traits with their respective actors, hence why my Karimloo actively works out like the very real (and gorgeous) Ramin Karimloo.

-Yes the boy lifting was Eric from the film “Phantom of the Mall: Eric’s Revenge. Any appearance he makes will be minimal but I couldn’t resist

-So even though the Meriks go by last names in the House, I decided the Christine’s will all go by their respective first names of their actresses.

-Panaro is referring to Trista Moldovan as his respective Christine, Sierra Boggess as Karimloo’s due to their popularity in 25th at the RAH, and of course Sarah Brightman being Crawford’s original and the first Christine.

-Going a little factual here. Sadly Sarah’s Raoul in this case Steve Barton is no longer with us having passed away in 2001.

-Yes Emmy as in Emmy Rossum from the 2004 movie.  

[swedishmrose-blog]

“Our people are starving.” Madeleine repeated. Her voice was firm even though the little Queen did not feel as steady as the vibrations from her vocal chords. Her eyes lifted to meet those of her husband’s. He was already a formidable man, experienced despite his youth. She studied his face, as if trying to decipher him. He was a complex puzzle, far more complex than his enemies gave him credit for. He was not simply a man of pure physical exertion. He had an intellectual mind, a hunger and a thirst for knowledge that Madeleine both admired and had come to loathe. He was too intelligent at times, a match for her in every way. Every piece she moved was met with an equally wise motion of his own. It was exhausting and thrilling at the same time. Yet when it came to their people, it was purely irritating. 

She had not been Queen for long, nor had he been King, and yet so much had rested firmly on her shoulders that she felt as though she’d aged ten years in two moons, and had known nothing beyond the crown. “Do you not care for our people, Valdemar?” She asked, her voice openly challenging him despite the presence of other gentlemen of rank, namely his majesty’s dear brother, and the Marshal of the Realm. It did not deter her. She was in the right, and she knew it. His pride be damned. She had not come to Sweden to watch another kingdom of innocent people be cast aside for a greedy monarchy. Before he could answer her, she spoke more, her voice soft and feminine despite the authority that rang in each word. Her confidence had grown immensely, which was ironically Valdemar’s own doing. He’d started to notice her now that she had power in her fingertips. He’d started to listen when she spoke. Yet on this matter they clashed as strongly as he clashed with any other courtier in his court. 

“Our people must eat. I know that your soldiers must also eat, but who supplies your lines, Valdemar? Who is it that replaces soldiers cut down by our enemies? Who maintains the kingdom whilst the soldiers go off to fight? And for what do they fight if we will not care for our own?” She demanded, “There must be a better system of rationing or this winter will destroy us. Your soldiers will fall, and there will only be scrawny children and worried mothers to take their places.” Her words were filled with genuine compassion for the people she’d come to call her own. Slowly, she had begun to see Sweden as home. It was different than Estonia, would always be different than Estonia, but she had been sent to the North to give her people their best chance. Food supplies had come along with the little princess, and Sweden had played it’s part, defending Estonian borders from mutual enemies. 

But she had made a fatal mistake in her compassion. She’d challenged the great King Valdemar, the youthful, prideful, arrogant, King Valdemar in front of his men. In front of his brother. She could feel the weight of their gaze, but more than that, she could feel the weight of his silence. He was thinking, she could see that on his face. And yet his eyes weren’t cold in the way she had anticipated. There was something else there, a spark of interest, perhaps. His voice was low and controlled, something she also hadn’t anticipated. So often she saw him wracked with ire, his voice loud and thunderous through ornate rooms, that to see him calm and deep in thought had her heart racing faster in her chest. She could handle his passionate displays of anger. She could handle his temper. But his quiet anger? His calculated thoughts? She had not yet figured out how to manage such. She swallowed back her nerves, waiting with bated breath for his response. 

When at last he spoke, she allowed herself to breathe as much as could be managed in the tight corset that held her ribs snugly. “We will use your dowry then, to feed the people, and what we have already rationed for the soldiers will remain in transit to the lines.” He answered. Madeleine would have preferred his vocal anger. She would have preferred it if he’d slapped her across the face and told her never to speak to him in such a way again. This was so much worse. His decision was wise, and yet it put her in a situation she had not anticipated. Her dowry was not large enough to supply all their people with the necessary amount of rations. Surely he knew that as well as she did, and by the smug smile that had settled across his brother’s lips, so did his men. It meant she either had to confess to such, and prove herself less valuable in the eyes of Valdemar and the men surrounding him, or it meant agreeing to his decision and having to do something to increase her dowry. It was wisdom and punishment wrapped into a neat package.

The Estonian wanted to be sick. She would not tell him that her dowry was entirely too lacking for such things. And yet, Estonia had sent her to Sweden as a beacon of hope, and to write to her father demanding more would surely place Estonia in a difficult position. Her country had been ravaged by war, by Swedish soldiers for years. Half the North had fallen to Swedish rule before the marriage agreement had been negotiated, and now she was meant to request the Estonian crown give more to Sweden? A quiet anger flowed through Madeleine’s veins as she swallowed her pride down, pushed away thoughts of what was good for Estonia. It didn’t matter anymore. She was not the Queen of Estonia. She was the Queen of Sweden, and the Swedish people needed to eat. 

“An excellent idea, min älskling.” Madeleine responded, forcing herself to keep any hint of anger from entering her voice. She bowed her head, fighting to keep the smile from her lips as well at the sight of his brother’s evident surprise. The Marshal was duly surprised by her decision as well, and saw to it that he would point out the lack of coin filling the coffers if the Queen would not do so herself. “Your majesty, surely we do not--” The Marshal began, but Valdemar silenced him with a single look, his eyes leaving his wife’s at last to meet that of the Marshal. “We will use the Queen’s sizable dowry. We’ve other matters to discuss that are not suitable to gentle ears.” He spoke, his eyes returning to his wife’s. Madeleine understood his subtle dismissal. Her welcome to the room was no longer in place, and yet he did not sound angry. Rather he sounded amused, impressed even. She was no longer the tiny, frightened Estonian princess who danced with ribbons and shrieked at stories of olde. She was growing into her crown at last. 

The parchment below Madeleine’s quill had become her enemy. Writing to her father had brought back her guilt. How could she possibly ask her father for more than he’d already given? He’d done everything to place Madeleine on the Swedish throne, to turn enemy into ally. He’d given a sizable dowry in the first place, albeit not sizable enough to feed Sweden through a winter as harsh as the one it was facing. He pained her deeply to request more from him, but she had no choice. She’d already taken to eating less herself, had endured just as everyone else had. She would not dine in luxury when children died in the snow. 

She swallowed the lump in her throat, hand reaching to wrap around the teacup. It’s warmth was welcome. She exhaled, her breath billowing in clouds despite the fire that was being continuously kept with. The winter was brutal. She wondered if God was punishing them for something, and yet what was their fault? What was their great sin? She pushed thoughts of sin aside, trying desperately to focus on the letter. Elisabet was sitting quietly in a chair nearby, her hands expertly working a needle to close a hole in the fur blankets that Madeleine longed to curl up in. She longed to rest, but there was work to be done. Rest would come once she had finished the letter. A sigh left her lips as she crumpled the parchment once more.

Elisabet’s eyes turned at the crinkling noise. “You might take a rest, majesty.” She spoke softly, with a fair amount of sympathy. Elisabet understood the Queen’s predicament. She was a wise woman, older than Madeleine by several years, and loyal to the position she’d found herself in. Madeleine’s eyes softened as she looked to her but she shook her head. “No, I must send this letter as quickly as possible. There is no sense waiting.” She insisted. Elisabet set the needle and furs aside, a warm smile settling on her lips as she rose from her seated position. She came to stand behind the little Queen, and carefully pulled the brunette curls back, her fingers smoothing over the locks in a soothing motion. “You’ll tire yourself needlessly, majesty. A short rest will clear your mind and allow you to write sensibly. Or perhaps you could share your thoughts with me and I could assist you in formulating them with the quill.” 

The offer was most welcome. Elisabet knew her too well. Madeleine leaned back, closing her eyes as Elisabet brushed through her hair. It was soothing. It reminded her all too much of her own mother. She missed her dearly. The raw ache at her lost was still felt by the Swedish monarch on more than rare occasions. All that she was could be credited to her dear mother. It was the Estonian Queen who had raised her only daughter with dignity and grace, with a sense of compassion, with a mind filled with wisdom. “I simply wish there were a way to benefit our people, without subjecting Estonia to further hardship. It pains me. I feel as though I am betraying her.” She confessed, trusting Elisabet to keep her confidence. 

“Oh Mada,” Elisabet breathed, her motions still meant to be soothing. Madeleine had long since given Elisabet permission to be informal with her when it was just the two of them in her private chambers. “Your heart is too large, my sweet Queen. Do not trouble yourself so. Your father is a wise and good man, he will be understanding.” She reassured. Madeleine knew Elisabet was right. That was what made it hurt more. Her father would not protest, he would not grow angry with her. His love was unconditional, and his patience saintly. He deserved a far better daughter than she. Yet she needed to rely on such now. She shifted, sitting straight once more. Elisabet’s hands fell resting on the back of the chair. “If you would like me to read over the letter when you are finished..?” She offered. Madeleine turned her head, offering a tiny smile. “Of course, you may retire for now. I shall send for you when I am finished.” She promised. 

Once Elisabet had left her chambers, Madeleine turned her focus to the parchment once more. The quill wrote smoothly against it, in Madeleine’s practiced and elegant script. When she was finished she signed her new name, the name afforded her as Queen of Sweden. So many titles had been bestowed upon her. She needed to prove that she deserved them. God had given her a crown for a reason, but she longed for the people to put their faith in her. She would do what it took for the good of Sweden, no matter the personal expense. Was that not the role of a monarch? Did not a monarch sacrifice for the good of the people? 

She did as promised once the letter was finished. Upon receiving Elisabet’s approval, she carefully pressed her seal into the wax. The letter would reach her father in due time. From that moment forward, it was in his hands. She passed the letter over to Elisabet before rising from her chair. Her bedclothes were already on, and she wanted nothing more than to wrap herself in the furs that had been mended. She stilled at the sound of the door opening, watching as Elisabet dropped into a curtsy. Her eyes fell to the only one who could come to her chambers at such an hour. She lowered herself as well for a moment before straightening once more. Elisabet quietly dismissed herself, leaving Madeleine alone with her husband.

“I’ve finished penning the letter, my love. The increase in my dowry shall arrive soon.” She promised. She couldn’t keep the pain from her voice completely, and she knew he noticed. He closed the distance between them, and her breath hitched just so. His hand moved to sweep the brown curls from her shoulder as the other settled against her hip. “Good.” The single word was the only answer she’d get from him. She did not protest as he guided her to the furs she’d longed to curl up in. 

As promised, the increase in her dowry had arrived swiftly after her letter had reached the Estonian King. Madeleine stood now, dressed in her finest outwear. Even so, she was still frozen to the bone. She did not complain for a moment as she reached for another sack. She did not need to personally give food to the people--there were many ways to see that they were fed, but Madeleine wanted to. It was in service to her people, service to God. It was no different in her eyes than giving alms to the poor. She passed the sack to the kindly woman who smiled to her. She could see years of work marring what could have been a beautiful face. It was her words that caught Madeleine off guard, however.

“May God bless you, Queen Madeleine!” The woman’s voice was filled with joy, with relief. Hope swelled in the Estonian’s heart. This was what would make it all worth it. Her father was wise, he would find a way to make sure his people did not suffer for the aid he’d given to Sweden. And she could delight in the comfort she was giving the people who bowed to her. The Queen smiled warmly, “And may his merciful love cloak you in warmth.” She responded before the woman could leave. Similar sentiments filled her ears and passed her lips as she offered food to those who needed it desperately. She would not cross all of Sweden to provide such food of course, but those near Tre Kronor would see their little Queen in person. They would see her compassion. And if she could help it, they would see it genuine as well. 

Madeleine was exhausted by time she took her leave, walking with Elisabet and her ladies close behind. “Excellency,” Madeleine began. “See to it that tea is given to each lady, and spettekaka.” She ordered, her voice filling with the joy she felt at seeing hope restored in little ways. Was that not what they should hold on to? The Swedish people were resilient. They had endured far worse and would continue to endure. It was in the very stones of Tre Kronor. The castle beat with a pulse, steady and strong. The winter was their salvation as much as it was their destruction. It was something she had come to love about her new home: the strength of the people forged in ice. There was none like her people. They were filled with a stubbornness to live that outlasted the harshest of winters and would continue to. Her people grasped to the single bud growing through the white. They held to the first sound of birds chirping. She was filled with the same hope that they felt from offering them what little she could. They deserved more, truly they did. Yet if she could offer them a tiny sliver of hope, then she would be grateful. 

She took her place in the women’s room, watching the steam of tea dance through the room as the hum of women’s voices filled her ears. She felt her shoulders relax. She had endured. She would continue to do so. Her people deserved a Queen focused on them. It was what pushed back thoughts of betrayal. She could not think of Estonia. She was not Estonian any longer. She was the shining light in the Swedish court. She was the soft voice, the sweet melody. She had to be. She had to contrast her husband’s harshness. She had to soothe wounds that he’d caused, and quiet dissent before it came after everything she loved and held dear. She had to be the quiet strength, hidden in plain sight. Valdemar could rage. He could make demands. He could show his power with strength and brute force. But Madeleine? She was proving herself valuable in other ways. The Little Queen’s eyes turned toward Malvina, a smile on her lips. “Tell us again, Lady Malvina, the story of the Viking Queen.” She insisted. It was a favorite, a tale of endurance in a similarly harsh year. The babble quieted as eyes turned to her lady-in-waiting. Malvina was an excellent storyteller, an entertainer in every fashion, and Madeleine appreciated that. The room was entranced by her within moments, allowing the Queen reprieve to her own private thoughts. 

She wasn’t surprised to hear the door open again. Madeleine stood by the window, her eyes looking down to the courtyard. She loved the layout of Tre Kronor, from her private chambers she could see far and wide. The mountains were beautiful, the frozen lakes seemed to shimmer in the moonlight. It was breathtaking, haunting even. But her thoughts were much farther away, in a little country nestled in fields of purple flowers. She did not turn to greet him as he crossed the room. She did not turn to greet him when his hand settled against her waist. He lowered his mouth to her ear, his breath warm, tickling her skin. “I have made you a Queen in their eyes.” He murmured. Despite her best attempts, he knew. He knew she was troubled. He knew she was torn. His words were enough to finally force her to look.

“And what about you, Valdemar? Am I a Queen in your eyes?” She asked, ignoring the redness of her own. She ignored how they had grown wet. She had endured her guilt, had prayed endlessly, and yet she needed it to be worth it. Her people were fed. They sang her praises in the street. Yet she found herself longing for Valdemar’s approval just as much. It was him she had challenged in the first place. It was him who had kept himself at arm’s length in so many ways. She watched him, waiting for his answer, dreading that it would not come. She caught the tiniest rise of his lips, and it made her soften. He lowered his mouth to hers, silencing her with his lips. She returned the kiss. It had, then. Or it had at least started to. 

She would be the good Queen. She would be at his side. Together they would build a dynasty. But if she could help it, she’d never again subject Estonia to pain for the benefit of Sweden. She had wrapped herself in the viking songs. She had crowned herself in winter roses. She had donned Scandinavian furs. But she would always be Estonian. She would always love the walls around Tallinn. A part of her would always be stuck in a field of purple wildflowers. 

[carey-pricemas]

Dinner with the Swedes- Andre Burakovsky

(Omg this GIF works so well!!!)

I LOVED this prompt anon! I love the Caps (if any of you missed that) and I got to include a BUNCH of them! Ahhh!!! I love how this one turned out! And I know you like how I incorporate languages, so I used some more Swedish, and a Swedish dish (for dinner with the Swedes) so translation is at the end and I hope you like it!

Warning: None that I can think of?

Anon request: hi there!!! i love your blog, and you're a really good writer! i also love how you try to incorporate other languages like swedish into it to make it more realistic! can you write one where andre takes his new gf to dinner at one of the swedes' house and shes like super nervous but then they LOVE her and end up teasing andre in the locker room the next day about how heart eyes he is about her and embarrass him in front of the whole team?

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              "älskling, you ready?" Andre asked, stepping into the kitchen.

              "Yeah just needed to put the cake on a plate."

              "I said you didn't need to bring anything" he said. He eyed the cake. "What's this?"

              "I googled Swedish desserts. It's an almond caramel cake!"

              "A Toscakaka?"

              "Sure! Sounds close to what it said online" you said shrugging. "Can you grab the ice cream from the freezer?"

              "I'm sure Nicky has-" You shot Andre a look. "Ok ok. Getting the ice cream!" Andre went over to the freezer and pulled out a gallon of vanilla ice cream. He put it in one of your reusable refrigerated grocery bags and watched as you placed plastic wrap over the cake.

              "Do I look ok?" you asked nervously turning to your boyfriend. You smoothed out your dress and pat your hair to make sure it was sitting right. You were nervous. Ok you were more than nervous. You were about ready to throw up.

              Your relationship with Andre was pretty new still and he was taking you to dinner at his teammate’s house. And not just his teammate, his Swedish father, and your favorite player up until meeting Andre, Nicklas Backstrom's house. And apparently his other Swedish teammate, Marcus Johansson, and his family was going to be there as well. You would be the only non-Swede.

              "Are you sure it's ok for me to join?" you asked. Andre walked up to you and gave you a quick peck on the lips before grabbing the cake off the table.

              "Yes. They specifically want to meet you. Now come on before we're late" he said, ushering you to the door. You slid on a jacket and grabbed your purse and keys.

              "Am I ever going to get you to drive?" you asked.

              "Well ok, I don't have my drivers' license" Andre admitted sheepishly. You stopped and looked at him for a long moment before you shook your head.

              "We'll work on that another day" you said. You led him out to the car and watched as he set the food in the backseat before climbing in next to you. "I need directions" you said simply.

              "Oh! Oh yeah!" He gave you directions and as you pull into the large neighborhood, you had to pull the car over. "What's wrong, älskling?"

              "I don't think I can do this!" you panicked. Your nerves were working overtime and you really might puke now.

              "Hey, relax ok? They're my friends. They hear stories..."

              "THAT'S WORSE ANDRE!" You put your head on the steering wheel. "Oh my god! They already know terrible things about me!"

              "Hey no, no talk like that. Anything bad you've done, I have as well so I'd never tell those stories!" You turned and looked at him, head still on the steering wheel. "Plus if they didn't like you from stories, they wouldn't invite you to dinner. They'd convince me to dump you."

              "That doesn't make me feel better" you mumble.

              "Ok, how about I want you there? You'll be fine, I promise. I'll make sure to protect you." You sighed and pulled the car away from the curb and pulled up to Nicky's house. You and Andre got out of the car, you wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, before walking around the car and meeting Andre on the sidewalk.

              "I'll carry the cake" you said, taking the plate from him. He put his free hand on your lower back and pushed you towards Nicky's door. He rang the doorbell and kissed your cheek.

              "You'll be fine" he whispered right before the door opened. A beautiful brunette with a gorgeous smile opened the door.

              "Andre! And you must be (Y/N)! We've heard so much about you! Come in, please!" You stepped in with Andre following just behind you. "I'm Liza!"

              "Hi, Liza. It's wonderful to meet you."

              "What's that?" A large man with dark hair and nicely trimmed mustache and beard looked at the cake, a baby girl in his arms.

              "Oh! I made a Toscakea?" you said, looking at Andre.

              "Toscakaka" he corrected. Marcus' eyes widened.

              "Seriously? I love toscakaka! Nicky! Andre's girl bakes!" Marcus wandered down a hallway and another brunette joined you at the door.

              "Ignore my husband" she said, shaking her head. "I'm Amelia. That was Marcus and our daughter Mila."

              "Hi, I'm (Y/N)."

              "Well let's go enjoy dinner so we can eat this delicious looking cake!" Liza said, eyeing the cake. "Wonder if Nicky will let me have his piece" she muttered leading the way down the hall. Andre introduced you to Nicky and his children, Haley and Vince, before you sat down for dinner. Everything went smoothly until Nicky cleared his throat, looking at you.

              "How did you two meet?" he asked. Liza elbowed him and shot him a look but you just grinned.

              "It's actually a really boring story" you said, blushing.

              "Woah look how red she is!" Marcus laughed.

              "She was my nurse at the doctor's and I may have forgotten to lock the bathroom door..." Andre said, just as red as you were. It was silent for a moment before all the adults burst into laughter.

              "She still agreed to go out with you after she saw?" Marcus asked. Nicky tried hard to not laugh, but he did not succeed. He and Marcus were red with laughter, tears pooling in their eyes.

              "If we have kids we need to make up a story" Andre muttered. You nodded and looked at your water glass until the others got themselves together.

              "I'm so sorry, (Y/N). Why don't we cut the cake?" Liza said, standing. You stood as well and started to collect plates. You followed Liza and Amelia into the kitchen. "Is that really how you met?" You nodded.

              "He was so embarrassed. He wanted to buy me lunch, but I couldn't that day so he sent flowers. Then he brought me coffee. Then we went out to lunch. The rest is history I guess" you said shrugging.

              "Aww!" both women gushed.

              "That's so sweet! Totally Andre" Amelia said. Liza nodded.

              "I was honestly surprised about tonight" you said. They gave you a questioning look. "No one's family has ever wanted to meet me before. So when Andre said the guys wanted to meet me, I got so nervous."

              "Ah, no worries" Liza said, patting your hand. "The boys just want to know you're good enough for Andre and not just after him for his money."

              "And that he's treating you right" Amelia added. "Nicky is like his adopted father. Marcus is the uncle. They both take care of their baby Swedes."

              "Here. Why don't we finish this discussion over this delicious cake?" You each took plates into the dining room and handed the cake and ice cream out to everyone. All the Swedes immediately dug in and moaned. You grinned and took a bite yourself.

              Holy crap that's good!

              "Wow, thank you so much" Nicky said. "We're going to have to have extra gym time tomorrow" Nicky joked as he forked another bite in. You looked at Andre, who was inhaling the cake.

              "Easy there. I'll make you another one" you whispered to him. He kissed your cheek.

              "Thank you for being a great cook and baker." He turned to the others. "You'll have to have dinner at our house next time. She makes the best meatloaf!" You blushed and looked at your cake.

              "It's a plan" Nicky said, winking at you. As the night wound down and you were on the way to leaving, Andre went to the bathroom, leaving you alone with everyone. "How'd you know how to make this?" Nicky asked pointing to his empty dessert plate.

              "Oh! I've been trying to learn some Swedish recipes. Andre told me that he missed them. Plus when Andre told me who would be here, I figured maybe you all would enjoy it as well." You blushed bright red.

              "He told you the Swedes were having dinner?" Marcus laughed.

              "No, but I've been a Caps fan all my life, so when he told me who would be here, I thought it would be nice."

              "Favorite player?" Marcus asked, curiously. "Before Burkie."

              "This is not a fair question" you pointed out.

              "She has a Backstrom jersey" Andre said as he rejoined the group. "Said she's followed him since he was drafted."

              "Andre!" you hissed.

              "Guess we'll have to get you Burkie's jersey now" Nicky said laughing.

              "Guess if I'm stuck with you, then a Burakovsky it is" you sighed dramatically. Andre leaned forward and kissed you.

              "You ready?" Andre asked. You nodded. The group stood and you and the Johansson's both exited the residence, two new numbers in your phone to do things with and meet up with at games. "That wasn't so bad, yeah?" Andre asked as you both slid into the car.

              "No it wasn't. Do you think they liked me?"

              "I think they loved you" he responded. You sighed and relaxed in your seat.

              "Good!"

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              Andre sat in his stall the next morning, untying his skate, sweat dripping down his face. Suddenly a red piece of fabric hit him. Andre looked up to see the one of the equipment guys looking at him.

              "Backie said you needed a spare jersey." He looked at the red and realized it was one of his home jerseys.

              "Now she can scream YOUR name at games" Marcus teased.

              "And maybe the googly eye nonsense can stop during dinner? I almost lost my appetite" Nicky added, passing by on the way to his own stall.

              "Yeah! Does she make heart eyes at you too, or is it just you? Does she send you the heart eye emoji to tell you she misses you?" Marcus added.

              "Woah, who's heart eyed?" Tom asked, sitting. The rest of the team was starting to filter in.

              "Andre is over (Y/N)! If anything, this girl is WAY too good for our little Burkie!" Marcus said laughing. "Get this! She saw his tiny d-"

              "And that's where this convo ends!" Andre said, cutting Marcus off. His face was bright red. Nate noticed the jersey in his hands.

              "Woah! Must be serious! Are you going to ask her to go steady with the jersey?" Nate cackled, elbowing Zach who started laughing. The rest of the boys started laughing as well.

              "I hate all of you" Andre muttered, stuffing the jersey into one of the pockets of his backpack. "I can't even escape!" Tom laughed.

              "No way, buddy! You're riding with me!" Suddenly Andre's phone dinged and he read the message, smiling widely.

              "What's up, Romeo?" TJ Oshie asked.

              "She's coming to pick me up" Andre shot over his shoulder as he jogged to the showers. Before the water turned on he heard the last word from Kuzy.

              "Wow he really DOES have heart eyes!"

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Omg I love my team! Let me know what you all thought? I also don’t know if I should apologize for it being so long either...? Up next: Alex Burmistrov

älskling- honey

[hueman-blog]

Answering Personal Questions

I made a user I follow, @razzledazzlefoshazzle , answer all of these on his blog. I’m feeling guilty so I’m gonna do it too. I know none of you asked but HERE GOES MY PERSONAL INFO!!!

200: My crush’s name is: Averi 
199: I was born in: Place? Lancaster, PA, USA. Year? 1999 
198: I am really: Bored and unmotivated 
197: My cellphone company is: Apple 
196: My eye color is: Brown 
195: My shoe size is: 8-9 Women’s US 
194: My ring size is: Idk, something little 
193: My height is: 5'4" I’m little 
192: I am allergic to: Stupid people 
191: My 1st car was: Never had one 
190: My 1st job was: Cashier at California Tortilla (a fast food Mexican franchise around D.C.) 
189: Last book you read: Cradle and All 188: My bed is: My safest place, my true home, and also too empty 
187: My pet: Doesn’t do much 
186: My best friend: Is my girlfriend 
185: My favorite shampoo is: Shamu 
184: Xbox or ps3: Deck of cards 
183: Piggy banks are: Cute decoration, inefficient coin collector 
182: In my pockets: I’m in pajamas 
181: On my calendar: Work, as that’s the only thing in my life scheduled. Also a haircut within a few days 
180: Marriage is: Great for legal benefits, stupid for expensive ceremonies 
179: Spongebob can: Please end soon it turned idiotic long ago 
178: My mom: Is abusive (sorry to bring the mood down) 
177: The last three songs I bought were? Who buys songs anymore?? 
176: Last YouTube video watched: History of the World 
175: How many cousins do you have? On my dad’s side, 8. On my mom’s side, no idea 
174: Do you have any siblings? An older brother 
173: Are your parents divorced? Nope 
172: Are you taller than your mom? Probably not 
171: Do you play an instrument? Nope 
170: What did you do yesterday? Absolutely nothing just like every day

[ I Believe In ] 
169: Love at first sight: Nope 
168: Luck: Yes 
167: Fate: Nope 
166: Yourself: Not really 
165: Aliens: Yeah there’s gotta be some life out there 
164: Heaven: No 
163: Hell: No 
162: God: The Flying Spaghetti Monster? Hell yes. Be boiled for your sins 
161: Horoscopes: Nope and frankly if you do I find you uneducated 
160: Soul mates: No 
159: Ghosts: Nah 
158: Gay Marriage: Believing??? In love,??? And commitment??????? Between two people???????? Obviously! 
157: War: Never 
156: Orbs: I believe in Orbeez 
155: Magic: No it’s just science we can’t explain, or illusions we can’t see the entirety of

[ This or That ] 
154: Hugs or Kisses: Kisses 
153: Drunk or High: Music 
152: Phone or Online: Online on my phone 
151: Red heads or Black haired: Black haired 
150: Blondes or Brunettes: Brunettes 
149: Hot or cold: Hot 
148: Summer or winter: Summer 
147: Autumn or Spring: Autumn 
146: Chocolate or vanilla: Chocolate 
145: Night or Day: Night 
144: Oranges or Apples: Apples 
143: Curly or Straight hair: Straight 
142: McDonalds or Burger King: McDonalds 
141: White Chocolate or Milk Chocolate: Milk Chocolate 
140: Mac or PC: Mac!! 
139: Flip flops or high heels: Flip Flops 
138: Ugly and rich OR sweet and poor: ugly and sweet are opposites now?? I guess sweet and poor 
137: Coke or Pepsi: Fruit Punch 
136: Hillary or Obama: Obama 
135: Burried or cremated: Cremated 
134: Singing or Dancing: Singing 
133: Coach or Chanel: Money to spend on actual useful things 
132: Kat McPhee or Taylor Hicks: Who??? 
131: Small town or Big city: Big City 
130: Wal-Mart or Target: Target 
129: Ben Stiller or Adam Sandler: Both suck, but I’d choose Stiller 
128: Manicure or Pedicure: Manicure. My feet are too ticklish 
127: East Coast or West Coast: West Coast USA 
126: Your Birthday or Christmas: Christmas, I don’t like being the center of attention 
125: Chocolate or Flowers: Chocolate 
124: Disney or Six Flags: Disney 
123: Yankees or Red Sox: What is a sport? How do??

[ Here’s What I Think About ] 
122: War: What is it good for? Absolutely nothing 
121: George Bush: “Mr. President, what are your thoughts on Katrina?” “We’re gonna find her. And we’re gonna bring her to justice.“ 
120: Gay Marriage: Its a marriage between two people in love. Celebrate, but don’t go broke in one day 
119: The presidential election: Media and rich people control it basically, and I’d rather it be an actual democratic popular vote. Trump is a clown and should have never won 
118: Abortion: Its a woman’s right to choose. Personally I think the world is overpopulated anyway and more people should adopt rather than try to conceive 
117: MySpace: Never had one 
116: Reality TV: Scripted, not reality 
115: Parents: Good or bad, they influence your whole life because they were there at the start. Mine went bad and ruined me 
114: Back stabbers: Oh I love them- what?? They suck. No one should be betrayed like that 
113: Ebay: Never used it but it got the ball rolling for Amazon 
112: Facebook: I only use it to message/call my friends, and to see unlimited amounts of dogs 
111: Work: It’s a necessary evil 
110: My Neighbors: Quiet, the only one I met was a total bitch though 
109: Gas Prices: I don’t drive 
108: Designer Clothes: C'mon people there are way better uses for your money 
107: College: Shouldn’t be expected of teenagers 
106: Sports: Boring, overhyped, the players overpaid 
105: My family: Worthless, judgmental pricks 
104: The future: Uncertain

[ Last time I ] 
103: Hugged someone: Sunday (3 days ago), when my friend picked me up from work 
102: Last time you ate: Italian ice about 1.5 hours ago (8:15pm) 
101: Saw someone I haven’t seen in awhile: A month ago 
100: Cried in front of someone: A month ago maybe?? 
99: Went to a movie theater: Many many months ago 
98: Took a vacation: A year ago 
97: Swam in a pool: Two years ago? 
96: Changed a diaper: Never 
95: Got my nails done: My 16th birthday I think (almost two years ago) 
94: Went to a wedding: Eight years ago? 
93: Broke a bone: Never 
92: Got a peircing: I was 14 and got my ears pierced (almost 4 years ago) 
91: Broke the law: Never 
90: Texted: A minute ago

[ MISC ] 
89: Who makes you laugh the most: My friend Brad. He’s so inappropriate but his jokes I cannot stop laughing at 
88: Something I will really miss when I leave home is: Not paying bills other than Internet 
87: The last movie I saw: Coraline 
86: The thing that I’m looking forward to the most: Moving to California 
85: The thing im not looking forward to: Paying for rent in California 
84: People call me: To friends: Lys. To family: Alyssa. To my girlfriend: Lyssy. To everyone else: annoying 
83: The most difficult thing to do is: Get up out of bed every day 
82: I have gotten a speeding ticket: Nope I do not drive 
81: My zodiac sign is: Cancer 
80: The first person i talked to today was: My friend Jessica 
79: First time you had a crush: Preschool, this boy in my class Marshall 
78: The one person who i can’t hide things from: Myself 
77: Last time someone said something you were thinking: Yesterday, idk? 
76: Right now I am talking to: My phone in the way of typing 
75: What are you going to do when you grow up: Survive hopefully. I also wanna be a flight attendant 
74: I have/will get a job: Have a job as assistant manager of an arcade 
73: Tomorrow: I’m going food shopping and seeing my annoying cousin Barbara (she has two boyfriends and they both treat her like shit. It’s not poly it’s just cheating) 
72: Today: I actually made a meal that was nice 
71: Next Summer: I’ll be living in California 
70: Next Weekend: I have to face my parents for the first time since February. I hate it 
69: I have these pets: A ball of moss named Mo 
68: The worst sound in the world: My girlfriend crying 
67: The person that makes me cry the most is: My father 
66: People that make you happy: My girlfriend Averi 
65: Last time I cried: A few weeks ago?? 
64: My friends are: Averi, Raven, Jessica 
63: My computer is: My phone 
62: My School: Is nonexistent 
61: My Car: Is also nonexistent 
60: I lose all respect for people who: Hate on others for no reason 
59: The movie I cried at was: Toy Story 3 
58: Your hair color is: Black 
57: TV shows you watch: None 
56: Favorite web site: Tumblr usually 
55: Your dream vacation: California 
54: The worst pain I was ever in was: Once I got constipated a few months ago for 48 hours. I screamed 
53: How do you like your steak cooked: Medium 
52: My room is: Either super messy or super clean. Right now messy 
51: My favorite celebrity is: Jacksepticeye 
50: Where would you like to be: In my girlfriend’s arms on a beach 
49: Do you want children: Right now I don’t think I ever would but if I ever did I’d adopt 
48: Ever been in love: Yes I am now 
47: Who’s your best friend: My girl 
46: More guy friends or girl friends: Girl friends 
45: One thing that makes you feel great is: Sleeping 
44: One person that you wish you could see right now: AVERI 
43: Do you have a 5 year plan: Stalin did 
42: Have you made a list of things to do before you die: Nope 
41: Have you pre-named your children: I did with my ex. Never again 
40: Last person I got mad at: My grandmother 
39: I would like to move to: California 
38: I wish I was a professional: Sleeper [ My Favorites ] 
37: Candy: Swedish Fish or Nerds 
36: Vehicle: Volkswagen Beetle 
35: President: Biden 
34: State visited: California 
33: Cellphone provider: Cricket 
32: Athlete: Me, running from my responsibilities 
31: Actor: Eddie Redmayne 
30: Actress: Anna Kendrick 
29: Singer: Laura Jane Grace 
28: Band: Against Me! 
27: Clothing store: Thrift shops 
26: Grocery store: Safeway 
25: TV show: Adventure Time 
24: Movie: Wall-E 
23: Website: Pornhu- I mean Tumblr 
22: Animal: Red Panda 
21: Theme park: Disney World 
20: Holiday: Christmas 
19: Sport to watch: Extreme Chess Mega X 
18: Sport to play: How Late Can I Get Up Before Concerning My Family 
17: Magazine: :enizagaM 
16: Book: The Underneath 
15: Day of the week: Saturday 
14: Beach: Any beach 
13: Concert attended: Fall Out Boy x Paramore 
12: Thing to cook: Pasta with alfredo sauce 
11: Food: Bacon egg & cheese on a bagel 
10: Restaurant: TGI Fridays 
9: Radio station: Night Vale Community Radio 
8: Yankee candle scent: Ass 
7: Perfume: Averi’s 
6: Flower: Averi 
5: Color: Orange - the color of Averi’s voice 
4: Talk show host: John Oliver 
3: Comedian: Bo Burnham 
2: Dog breed: Corgi 
1: Did you answer all these truthfully? Hell yeah I wouldn’t lie to you